I can’t explain how it happened. I remember being in the grocery store. I remember grabbing the bag of flour off the shelf. No I did not, quote, “HAVE TIME” to check if the bag said “All-Purpose,” “Some-Purpose,” “Undisclosed-Purpose” or “Still Searching For Its Purpose.” But when I got home and dumped my groceries on the kitchen island, it became clear: the bag said “No-Purpose.” It was one of the most chilling moments of my adult life, perhaps second only to the night my three toddlers informed me in unison that they needed to make ferret-shaped cupcakes. They were standing over my bed when they said it. It was 4:12 a.m.
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