Kristi Pahr

I have a confession to make. Target, meh. I’m just not that into it.

When my oldest son was a baby, my husband and I used to talk about what sports he would play.

Things as simple as a missed call from an unknown number or someone knocking on your door put me into straight up fight or flight. I really do hide from people who come to my door. Real talk, I have gotten on my hands and knees below a window so they wouldn’t see me. I’ve even hidden in the closet. I know. Whacko.

I’m not a TV person. I used to be, but not so much anymore.

I found my first gray hair when I was 12 years old. Twelve. I had gray hair before I had a period.

I know how it feels to not contribute financially to the household. I know how it feels to be completely dependent on someone else for my financial stability. I know how it feels to know that if something dreadful and unthinkable happened, I’d be completely destitute. And it’s terrifying.

I have to go shopping tomorrow and I’m dreading it.