I'm sorry, Mom

You tried. You really tried.

You worked tirelessly each Sunday morning to get all five of us ready for church so we wouldn't be late. You did your best to make sure my matching barrettes were placed just so in my hair so they would look cute, and this is what walked out of Primary.

I was so convinced that my way was better, and now look at this reminder of my stubbornness. I bet if Chad had had any inkling of that streak while we dated ... Well, we'll leave that one alone.