Ugh.

I dropped my Pampered Chef pizza stone on the tile floor of the kitchen trying to put it away this afternoon. It broke. And I cried.

And I still want to cry thinking about it.

I loved that stone. (So did I.-Julia)

I always burned my cookies until I started baking them on the stone.

It's the perfect size for a pizza.

I felt no shame in cursing quietly in front of the kids and taking a time out to sob in private.

The girls asked if it belonged the Grandma Barrow as I wept. No. It was mine. And I loved it.