Homework Rampage

Homework.  How I’ve come to hate that word.   I want  to be a flower in the field, blooming my little heart out.  I do not want to be the grim reaper of the missing homework assignment  but that’s been my job today.

If my son has homework, then I have homework.  My task is twice as hard.  First, I have to mentally prepare the boy for the assignment.  I have to make its completion contingent upon something he wants.   Then I have to listen to the mournful wailing that is sure to ensure.

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I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.

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The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
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