When Life Gives You Lululemons Read Free

three children had gathered at the kitchen table, nearly hyperventilating with excitement. Miriam tried to ignore the epic mess and focus on her children’s joy and her husband’s kindness, but it was tough with flour covering every inch of countertop, batter splattered on the backsplash, and errant chocolate chips and blueberries spread across the floor.
    â€œAnyone want some fruit salad or yogurt?” she asked, pulling both from the fridge.
    â€œNot me!” they all shouted in unison through mouthfuls of pancake.
    Yeah, me neither, Miriam thought to herself as she scooped some out. She spooned a bite into her mouth and nearly spat it into the sink. The yogurt had clearly gone bad, and not even the sweet strawberries could mask the rancid taste. She scraped the entire bowl’s contents into the garbage disposal and considered hard-boiling some eggs. She even nibbled one of those cardboard-like fiber crackers, but two bites in, she just couldn’t.
    â€œLive a little,” she murmured to herself, grabbing a chocolate chip pancake from the top of the pile and shoving it into her mouth.
    â€œAren’t they good, Mommy? Do you want to try it with whipped cream?” Benjamin asked, waving the canister like a trophy.
    â€œYes, please,” she said, holding out her remaining piece for him to squirt. Screw it. She was setting a good example for her daughter that food wasn’t the enemy, right? Everything in moderation. No eating disorders in this house. She had just popped a pod into the coffee machine when she heard Paul mutter, “Holy shit.”
    â€œDaddy! Language!” Maisie said, sounding exactly like Miriam.
    â€œDaddy said a bad word! Daddy said ‘shit’!”
    â€œSorry, sorry,” he murmured, his face buried in the newspaper Miriam had set on the table. “Miriam, come look at this.”
    â€œI’ll be right there. Do you want a cup too?”
    â€œNow. Come here now.”
    â€œWhat is it, Daddy? What’s in the newspaper?”
    â€œHere, have another pancake,” Paul said to Maisie as he handed the paper over to Miriam.
    Below the fold but still on the very first page blared the headline: MADD: MOTHERS ALL-FOR DRUNK DRIVING! SENATOR’S WIFE SLAPPED WITH DUI . . . WITH KIDS IN THE CAR!
    â€œHoly shit.”
    â€œMommy! You said ‘shit’!”
    â€œDaddy, now Mommy said a bad word!”
    â€œShit, shit, shit!” sang Matthew.
    â€œWho wants to watch a movie?” Paul asked. “Benjamin, why don’t you go down to the basement and put on Boss Baby for everyone.” Again, there was a mad scramble as they bolted toward the stairs, and then, seconds later, blessed silence.
    â€œThis can’t be right,” Miriam said, studying the mug shot of her old high school friend. They had overlapped senior year of high school in Paris at the American School. Karolina was there modeling and learning English on the side, and Miriam was forced to follow her parents there on a posting. “Karolina would never do that.”
    â€œWell, it’s right here in print. Failed roadside sobriety test. Empty bottles of booze in the backseat. Refused to take a Breathalyzer. And five kids in the car, including her own.”
    â€œThere is no way that’s possible,” Miriam said, scanning the story. “Not the Karolina I know.”
    â€œHow long has it been since you’ve spoken to her? Maybe she changed. I don’t imagine things are so easy being in the spotlight, like they both are now.”
    â€œShe was the face of L’Oréal for ten years! The mega-model to end all supermodels. I hardly think she has issues with the spotlight.”
    â€œWell, being the wife of a United States senator is something else entirely. Especially one who plans to run for president. It’s a different kind of scrutiny.”
    â€œI guess so. I don’t know. I’m going to call her. This just