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Toilet paper

We’d already purchased toilet paper, by the way.

J Man’s class is doing a toilet paper drive for a local charity and because I read every newsletter and am determined to teach our children selfless generosity, I purchased a mid-size pack and dropped it at school.

Done and done.

“But Mommy,” he pleaded yesterday, “our class set a goal to bring in 300 rolls and we’re only at 298? Can we buy some more?”

We’ve done our part.

I don’t need another trip to the store.

We need to save our money for groceries and school bills and coffee.

“I want to spend my money,” he bargained.

I told the TP police that if they were still two rolls short by the next day and if he still planned to spend his money (remember that jersey you’re saving for?) I would take him to the store.

You already know what happened.

Which is why after a late meeting and a rushed dinner and kidnastics, I found myself at Andy’s Market buying toilet paper.

I’ve never seen a kid so excited to buy toilet paper.

  
 
Also, he humors me and pretends to love the Broncos.

I love his heart.

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