A decision to while away the late afternoon and early evening with friends bumped our dinner time w-a-a-y back. It was close to 9 p.m. on a school night when we finally arrived at our neighborhood grocery store and picked up a pizza. Usually, I see people I know at the store. But this late, the crowd was thin; the faces, unfamiliar. Nobody waved or chatted. Everyone went quietly about their business.
When we got home, I described the scene to my husband. "I guess it was the Bad Mommies' Club," I said.
"Mom," my 13-year-old corrected me, "they were college students."
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