Jamie Janosz

The yellow light on my car’s dashboard illuminated just as I was turning onto Route 30 for my Saturday morning grocery dash. My heart sank. This was not the first time that pesky glowing signal had appeared. I had already had our Kia Soul into the dealer’s repair shop three times. When I first saw that strangely shaped yellow light, I frantically dug the user manual out of the glove box, trying to decide what that little puzzle shape represented. Ahhhh. Check Engine. “This indicates a concern with the emission system. Take it to the dealer as soon as you are able.” May I just say that I hate having things go wrong with my car. It throws my life out of kilter. My husband gets all cranky and irritable, and my already-busy schedule has to be adjusted. Suburban moms depend on our vehicles. We shuttle kids to activities, load up groceries, head to work, or make our requisite stops at Target. I have absolutely no time for disruptions – yet, here it was. Later that day, the ...

In fourth grade, a boy liked me. He liked me enough to write me one of those cute, fourth-grade boy notes. "Do you like me? Check yes or no." Instead of being pleased, I was horrified and completely frozen in my tracks. What would I say? Why did he like me? We had never talked. We were both shy, well-behaved kids who sat in their desks, raised their hands, stayed in line. He had brown hair and freckles across the bridge of his nose. And, he was persistent. Just before gymn class, while we were standing in line, he had another girl hand me an enormous paper valentine.It was at least 12 inches across - made from a paper doily. I held it awkwardly, not sure where to put it on my way to play kickball. But that wasn't all. The next day, without any further encouragment, he gave me (through the able delivery assistance of one of my friends) a carefully wrapped jewelry box. My girlfriends gathered around me after school to watch me open the mysterious present. It wa...