When I found myself divorced with two small boys to raise I felt like cotton candy in the wind. Sweet but completely at the mercy of my circumstances. Night after night I would pick up the boys at the sitters then drive us home to our tiny apartment. On one freezing cold winter night a light snow began to fall as I drove. As if on cue the drivers side window sought refuge from the cold by slipping deep into the car door where it remained. Fine ice particles filtered thought the open window. As we traveled home I began to look like a powdered donut. After several minutes the boy's cries concerning their freezing hands faded. Silence enveloped the car. Without warning my older boy, who apparently spotted my predicament, began to laugh. Spontaneously, his brother and I joined in. From that night forward I called on my old friend, my best friend in fact--my sense of humor. Every misadventure was documented as well as some of my new skills such as cooking delicious meals with corn flakes as the primary player. I survived and so will you. In retrospect it was the best of times.
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