moda vivendi

I'm just talking to myself. We do that sometimes, me and myself.

In typical Ange fashion…

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Today was the big move-your-life-and-all-your-shiz back to college day.  Thank God this is the last year for that.  Usually, my father is trying to fit JustOneMoreThing in the car in a particular way, and then taking JustOneMoreThing out of the car in a particular way, resulting in my mom and I getting exasperated and pissy with each other.  (Forget about getting pissy with him.  Would you like the oak or mahogany coffin?)  So, I found a way to remedy the problem: pack the car myself.  Went swimmingly well.

Unloading it was a cinch, too.  We left my father to unload while my mom and I rearranged furniture.  Then, unload the carts and unpack while my father went back for round two.

We didn’t snap at each other.  We didn’t grumble or get pissy.  There was no pandering or patronizing.

Instead, when we were going to pile back into the car for a well-deserved lunch, the battery on my dad’s SUV died.  Yup.  Only us.

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Author: Angelica Ross

Coffee addict, Post-It aficionado, Sharpie fanatic. I live and work in Pittsburgh, pin lots of recipes I'll never make, and I love the Oxford comma. Sometimes I write about advertising, other times I write about general life happenings; no matter what, I always try to entertain.

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