Yesterday, a friend of mine came by to hang out. Sitting at the kitchen table, she was describing how her children are driven,  focused people, and how foreign that is to her working mind. I’m nodding in agreement. (People who are focused make me envious; no matter how hard I try, I’m about as laser-like as a cotton ball.)

Then, she says  “I’m like a dandelion puff, and my kids are like jet planes. They roar by me, and my puff goes flying in a million directions.”

I’ve never, in my whole life, felt my own mind described so succinctly. There it is.