Tag: railroad wife

The Life of a Railroad Wife

Tonight, I scraped every bit of beef tips and rice into a Tupperware container.

Why didn’t I just start supper sooner?

I beat myself up for not knowing the things I couldn’t have known and for not controlling the things I couldn’t control.

It’s only 6 p.m. but I could’ve had this done at 5. I didn’t need to stay out on the porch swing to watch everyone play.

We could have eaten together earlier.

The sound of the weedeater and my husband’s cellphone were synonymous as I peeked my head out of the door to tell him that supper was ready, just for him to tell me that he had been called into work.

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