Few things strike greater fear in the parental heart than these: parent-teacher conferences. Highly educated adults, captains of industry, even veterans of foreign wars can be reduced to puddles of insecurity at the very prospect of conferring with their child’s teacher.
For years, the great philosophers of the world have told us people can be divided into two basic groups: the Day After Thanksgiving Shoppers and rational human beings.
I have nothing against Thanksgiving. Really. Any holiday that has pie as its main export is all right with me.
From the moment I held my firstborn son in my arms, I realized, almost instantaneously, that this wild, wonderful, unpredictably joyous journey I had only just begun would, in the blink of a moment, lead to my own planned obsolescence.
As if we needed further proof that celebrities are, in fact, pure evil, we have Gwyneth Paltrow nattering on in a recent issue of The British Mirror: “(Having a baby) changed the way I see the world,” she told a reporter.
How does that old song go? Send in the clowns
As usual, our family remains committed to causing highly educated and supremely dedicated professionals seriously doubt their career of choice.
A team from the National Science Museum in Tokyo, has, for the first time, discovered a giant squid captured on camera in its natural habitat.
Once again, I have let a perfect opportunity for martyrdom pass me right by. Isn’t that always how it is? Blink, you miss it, and before you know it, all the good victimizations are taken.
Obviously, it is never too early for me to start scheming – and worrying – about where my next sugar rush will come from.