lack of patience for perfection. I wiped a smudge of fudge from my cheek with the back of my hand, adjusting the “World’s Okayest Mom” apron that hung loosely over my gray sweatpants.
To the world, or at least to the neighbors who saw me dragging the recycling bin to the curb every Tuesday, I was Sarah Reynolds: freelance writer, single mom, and connoisseur continue reading …