I should not be allowed to go into Walgreens. Fact. Particularly when I have a baby sleeping (finally!) peacefully in the stroller, and absolutely nowhere I have to be any time soon. Recipe for disaster. It’s like strolling right back into my early teenage years . . . right up to and including the bad soft rock music playing on the store’s sound system. I can sing along with “Rocket Man”, oh yes oh yes I can. And “Dream Weaver”, and “Wildfire” and “Killing Me Softly.” All that nostalgia almost makes me want to shop for fake nails and a hair highlighting kit. Almost.
I should probably not admit these things. Continue reading