I’m starting to feel like Roseanne.
No, I don’t mean I’m packing on the pounds. I mean Roseanne in her old stand-up days when she drawled, “I figure if my husband comes home and the kids are still alive, I’ve done my job.”
Or, in the words of my idol Erma,
I’m considering packing one of my children off to her grandparents. Mom, I won’t tell you which one. You’ll find out when she arrives in the mail.
Update: Never mind, I’ve decided to keep her.