“Cigarettes are yucky, Mommy!”
I looked down at my four year old daughter, Melody. We had just finished lunch at Wendy’s when I went to reach for my most disgusting habit. It was a habit I picked up after Melody’s father left me for another woman, and since then, I found I couldn’t function without cigarettes.
I stopped walking, and my hands that were once seeking my addiction froze. I stood and watched Melody as she waited for me by playing with her dolly.
I grabbed the box of cigarettes from my purse, and with tears in my eyes, I threw them away.