Real Friends Have Sanders (Which Means I'm Not a Real Friend)

This morning an anonymous reader (kidding, it was Emily) told me she had started reading my blog and it totally made me want to write it again. So thanks, Emily, for reviving my creativity. Let's see how long it lasts.

I have been busy with four little kids going to the same school (it's too adorable to be real). I'm driving around in a new minivan that still smells new, which, new car smell is the very best smell

I finally got around to sanding and re-staining the kitchen table destroyed by paint, nail polish, and nail polish remover that only made things worse. Would it have happened if I hadn't had friends to help me? I want to say "maybe" but "probably not" is more honest.

That's me vacuuming the dust while Jen B. sands like a maniac. You will notice in the following pics that Jen B. will absolutely positively not be looking up because dammit, she has a job to do
These are women I have spoken of before. They are the kind who derive pleasure from accomplishing things. If they do watch Netflix, they're folding laundry while doing it. They sweep their floors and read to their kids and serve their neighbors.

I have never hated a picture of my face more.

They somehow stained the tabletop in an awe-inducing 4-5 minutes.
Even though what I most want from friends is for them to sit down and watch a movie while eating Haagen Dazs and ignoring our kids, sometimes you have friends who are more productive than that. I have magnanimously decided not to complain.


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