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Mug shot Tuesday. World’s Worst Mom. I’m allowed to feel that way sometimes. What it’s unacceptable is when someone else suggests it. For example, the father of my kids.
When yesterday I told my ex that our son had eaten the old Easter egg, he gave me that look. The same look he used to give me every time something happened to my kids when I was with them. The only thing missing this time was: “How is it possible that you can’t take care of your own kids?”.
It didn’t matter how many times I said to him that I couldn’t be in two places at the same time. He kept treating my like if I were the worst mother in the world.
One afternoon he got home and I told him: “I’m not sure who did it but one of them flushed the toilet deodorizer and now the…

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