"Kids," Jenna says, as her two oldest children depart. Walking over to the door, she spots a piece of lint on her pantyhose. Wrinkling her face, she flicks it off. It drifts slowly down, setting in her red pump. She can't help but feel for the lint, but her thoughts are interrupted as Emily rushes down the stairs. "Okay Mom, let's go."
The two are out the door and in the car before you could count to three. She drops Emily off at school, and watches as she skips through the schoolyard toward the door. Where do kids get that kind of energy?
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