Stephanie Rodriguez-Moser

OK, I recognize that TV is actually having this moment with all the amazing original shows on streaming, and Making A Murderer has opened half the country’s eyes to the ridiculous horror of the American justice system and all. But every time someone posts about it, I just think, “Ugh, you would already know this had you obsessively listened to Adnan’s case on Serial.”

On the day before Valentine’s Day, I had egg retrieval. Nothing says romance like sticking a literal needle through the walls of your vagina, amirite?

But how dare you, terrible mother and/or father. Don’t you love your kids? Don’t you want them to prosper? Don’t you miss them with every ounce of your being when they are in class? Aren’t you weeping huge tears of sorrow over the loss of this valuable family time?

I’m pretty sure that the vast majority of kids understand the whole hierarchy of adulthood thing. I’ve worked in daycares and volunteered in my kids’ schools. The children there (who called me by my first name, gasp!) never seemed to think that they shouldn’t take direction from me or be respectful of me because I have a first name. Then again, I also don’t assume that, by magic, the second the clock stuck on my 18th birthday, I attained a higher station in life.