Saturday, May 28, 2016

Hanging upside down at 45 mph is definitely NOT the time to start fretting about your child's hip-to-shoulder ratio.

Pity the people who flocked to be married this past weekend, convinced that all it took was a magic number, in this case the date of 7-7-07, to insure their wedded bliss.

It was the use of the phrase "party circuit" that finally put me over the edge. The phrase was used in conjunction with the word "birthday" as in, "Are you doing the birthday party circuit?" The term used to explain that any self-respecting modern child must first have their "actual birthday day party" with cake and presents from immediate family followed by their "class party" whereby they take treats into class.

The folly of youth is best demonstrated in all the instances when wise and well-meaning adults counseled me to "enjoy life, it goes so fast!" I, with the boundless wisdom of a teenage know-it-all, responded to this insight with a well-practiced eye roll and scoffing disdain.

Well, the bad news is that I can now officially call Mr. Wonderful "my old man." The good news is that I'd rather be poked with a hot stick than do so.

Any old parent can take a kid to Disney World. It takes a special kind of insanity to take a child on a vacation to a coal mine.

I'm not - by a long-shot - the only kid in the world who grew up without a father. The truth is, I had one - he just wasn't around much.

I can understand how the recent heat wave might have caught the corner store unawares in the frozen treat ordering department.

If you can read this, I have survived to write it and (blessedly) not been killed in a tragic multi-car pileup in the carpool lane.

I have come to the conclusion that all the single women I know are spending far too much time worrying about how to meet men.
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