Julie Owens, who bravely tugged on a tankini in mid-January in order to chaperone her twins to an indoor water park. After nearly swallowing a wet Band-Aid in the wave pool, Owens—in a show of tremendous valor—merely dry heaved thrice.
Hannah Robertson, who not only took her eleven-year-old to Sephora but also bought the pubescent child a sixty-five-dollar jade roller and twenty-five-dollar toner, all without once rolling her eyes or mentioning the patriarchy.
Elizabeth McGrackle, who prepared for a dinner party by buying groceries, planning the menu, cleaning the house, and then setting the table after retrieving ten plates, two bowls, four drinking glasses, and a moldy piece of her wedding china from under her teenage son’s bed.
Carrie Roberts, who stoically drank lukewarm Barefoot Moscato at a trampoline park that was blasting the Trolls 2 soundtrack, so that her daughter might attend Rayleigh from cheer camp’s birthday party.
April Peterson, who went through twenty hours of labor and an emergency C-section while her husband sat in a recliner and loudly sighed about the vending machine’s lack of Funyuns.