Okay, so here’s my guilty little confession: This story makes me just a little happy inside.. I don’t wish problems or problem children on anyone. But, here’s the deal:

Everytime I’m in the grocery store with my two little angels we park the cart in the back of the checkout line and as my oldest is simultaneously screaming for a Reeses and throwing my yogurt containers as hard as he can onto the belt and my youngest is fearlessly trying to free himself from the safety belt I look over and see this family on all the magazines. They look chic and hip, they look rested and fresh, they look well groomed and giddy and I try to imagine having a choice of mansions in different cities and the money for dates and nannies and massages and fancy cars and I literally want to puke. It’s nothing personal – it’s not their fault they’re fabulous…but reading something human and real about them gives me just a little ounce of peace about it.