We had boxes and bags of old toys we’d finally convinced (bribed and begged, basically) our seven-year-old son to part with. But little kids have a rather random and fast-changing mind, so we knew we needed to get them out of the house and over to Goodwill, ASAFP.

The past three nights our little guy has been giving us the lovely gift of extremely early wake ups, so everyone was a bit punchy on this President’s Day morning. Before we headed out to evacuate the stuff, my wife wanted to call and make sure they were open.

I was jamming the last lawn-and-leaf bag of nuclear-colored plastic into the car while she called.

“Hi, is this Good Will Hunting?…” and then, in a horrified whisper, “I have to hang up now.” Eyes wide, she stabbed her finger at her phone’s screen like a weapon, killing the call.

Our laughter crept up on us as we stared open-mouthed at each other, awed by the magnificence her awkward mommmy-brain glitch, and then we were breathlessly guffawing, laughter tears streaming down her face.

When we arrived at Goodwill, she quickly transferred all the stuff to the drop off room, her actions sped up by her desire to avoid running into whoever she’d gotten on the phone.

Mission accomplished! Very hilariously accomplished. We were still shaking our heads and chuckling as we drove home.

“Mommy brain” normally refers to a new mom’s mental fog, but it’s a terminal illness, really.

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