“Please excuse Ann for being late this morning. She has morning sickness.”
I turned back toward the house, but my mom was already standing in the doorway, arms crossed, grinning like a woman who had just played her final card. She waved sweetly and called out, “Guess you’ll be on time tomorrow, huh?”
And I was. Mama always knew exactly how to end the nonsense
Turns out nothing cures bad hair habits faster than the threat of a fictional pregnancy documented in your mother’s handwriting.
Before 
After
Tales of a Family 