Last Thursday I am at Little Caesar's Pizza. In walks a man about Joe's size and shape AND said guy is wearing a tan Carhart.
I want to walk up to him and say, "Hold me."
Surely, if I can close my eyes and pretend he's Joe, then he can pretend I'm not nutty.
Do it for charity.
Do it for the betterment of widow-kind.
Do it for being mean to your mom when you were a kid.
I don't care why you do it; I just want 30 seconds to be back in my husband's arms.
Instead I leave with my warm pizza and walk into a room of little people who think I am the best grandma because pizza IS their favorite.
A widow's gotta get her hugs where she can!
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