It's not the first time that I've found comfort in a fortune cookie.
I wouldn't suggest relying on said cookies for firm advice,
the one-liner feels spot on.
I've been carrying these around for the past three weeks or so,
as a reminder to myself that
we are spoken to.
Even be it through a fortune cookie.
When I read this, I felt understood--
as if the fortune writer was writing to me only,
and him or her knew that if I hadn't some relief soon,
I might just give up and instead gear my life towards better housekeeping.
I smiled. Relieved on the inside.
Because the kids were reeking havoc and unaware of the cookies,
Husband and I each took another.
I smiled again.
There is a method to this madness.
In some sort of whirlwind of timing or lack thereof,
the necessary focus is driving its point home.
I take notice.
Husband and I have this thing when we are out for Chinese.
If the fortune is bad, we don't eat the cookie.
Well, that's just him--
I'm not the superstitious type.
I just believe in mass produced fortune cookies.