Memory

Yesterday, Sam was waxing nostalgic about her summer in Utah during lunch.
"Hey, Mom. Do you remember when we were in Utah, and I ate that red snowcone and lots of junk food at the party, and then I came down in the night and threw up all over you in your bed?"

Uhhh, vividly. And some stops on Memory Lane needn't be revisited, Sam. Thanks, though.

Of course, during the same lunch she asked me why food turns into poop and then wanted to know how that process works, so unbelievably enough, I actually began wishing to go to back to talking about her Tiger's Blood snow cone vomit.
Sometimes, I have to either bust out laughing or let out a deep sigh from my toes when I look at my life. I usually choose the laughter, which is probably why Sam seems to have more rather than less of these moments as time goes on. She's working her audience.