Mylene took charge like a shopping angel. She asked for sizes, asked what they liked (I guessed glitter and chaos), and somehow managed to assemble a full wardrobe for all three girls in under thirty minutes.
Shoes. Underwear. Uniforms. A special “apology” shirt for Maya that read Too Cool to Listen. I almost cried.
“Thank you,” I said as we waited in line at the register. “You’re a saint.”
“You’ll return the favor someday. Maybe to someone else. Maybe to me when I lose my mind next week.”
She left with a wave and a smile, and I stood there, arms full of bright colored bags and baby Jaya drooling on a fresh pack of socks.
Few hours of shopping felt like I was in a jungle in the sss forest. It was scary as hell.
Now, we drove back with the backseat overflowing with tiny clothes and my
