Let me take you to a happy place.  Close your eyes.  Read through your eyelids.  What?  You can’t read through your eyelids?  How did you study in college?  Just put that book on your face and take a nap.  No?  OK, keep your eyes open, and RELAX.  Imagine you are in a beautiful back yard.  Flowers everywhere.  Slight warm breeze, blowing through your hair.

You are taking a clean, new sheet off the line.  It smells amazing, like fresh linen and lavender.  You are going to sleep on that soft new sheet.  Lovely.  It just needs one good SHAKE.  You grab the edges and flip it away from you, and the scent surrounds you in the breeze.  Refreshing!

Wait….sorry, mistake.  That’s not you holding the edge of a sheet.  That’s your 2 year old, holding the edge of a new carton of eggs.  What?  Those aren’t birds, singing in the trees?  Oops, no, my bad.  That’s the overhead announcer.  You are at Wal-Mart.  Your daughter has grabbed the edges of a carton of eggs and is flipping them open and AWWWAAAYYYY from you, like it were a sheet, but you see, IT IS NOT.  Sheet/eggs…NOT the same thing.  You hear the echo of Daddy, Sara, and your own voice in your head yelling, “Nooo….no…nonononoNOOOOO KELLY NOOOO!!!!” as the eggs FLY through the air, landing one by one all over the cart, the groceries, and the floor.  Where is that lovely back yard?  This isn’t a sweet smelling open space.  This is the frozen food aisle.  Covered in a dozen broken eggs.  Organic, free range eggs.  Less refreshing.  Less relaxing.

WAIT, you yell in my general information superhighway direction.  You can’t find me?  Just turn towards Google…little more to the right.  I’m right there!  Next to the live help desk at Amazon.  Oh, I can’t stop laughing.  Google and Amazon are just a figment of our imaginations.  Someday we’ll wake up and realize they are run by nothing but robots and aliens named Herbie.  Don’t ask me why; I don’t make the rules.  But I digress.  WAIT! You are saying.  WHY is this a happy place Lori?  WHY have you taken me here?  My point being…it wasn’t YOUR 2 year old flinging eggs all over the frozen waffle display at Wal-mart.  See?  Happy place.