Late last month I began a conversation with a Charter Member of The Inner Circle by warning her that the information to be disclosed was at-that-time secret. I had waited patiently for her arrival from her now-faraway other-valley home so that I could tell her the exciting news in person. Before I got any . . . → Read More: A Longhorn Victory and More Than Forty-Eight Hours Later . . .
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I don’t feel like a particularly good mother these last few days. Activity has taken on a frenzied pace, just as The Child has become fully aware that her two favorite new words, “hold” and “hug,” hold a peculiar power over me. Every few minutes when she’s with me (in the room with me, in . . . → Read More: Other Such Guilt In the last few months The Husband has taken a greater interest in home protection. Greater even than the untold number of firearms (that are protecting us from the confines of the gun safe) because suddenly the man, who in recent years has gone to bed on multiple occasions without having remembered to close . . . → Read More: Ima Hurt Somebody, Maybe (twwwwwiiitttccchh) I am a good secret keeper. I took that whole “confidentiality” thing very, very seriously. Consequently, I know all kinds of things that I’ve never spilled. And that I won’t. But Victoria? She’s spilling faster than the glug-glug-glugging that followed The Child’s accidental knocking of the last of Mommy’s precious Diet Coke into the . . . → Read More: Boxers, Briefs, Or Something of the Bow-Chicka-Bow-Bow Flossy Variety Sometimes I think it would be best if I just threw it all out there at one time, a keyboard gushing of every aspect of the things I’m dreaming up, so then I could pick it apart with your help and sort it all out somewhere OUTSIDE of my brain. Because the conversations going on . . . → Read More: The Plan, The Plan, The (Ever-Changing) Plan To My Glassy-Eyed Husband: It is not lost on me that the excitement of the You Won’t Believe How Much I Saved You conversation is lost on you. So I thought I would take a moment and break it out for you in an analogy that you can understand. Let’s say you get up . . . → Read More: Other Such Holes-in-One Back in the day of the full-time law office job, one of my regular responsibilities included collection of résumés we received, preliminary selection of interviewees, and scheduling of the same. And I can no more do justice to the entertainment that afforded me than there are limits to the strangeness that people will send . . . → Read More: You Never Get a Second Chance to Make a Bootylicious-Hot-Lips First (and Lasting) Impression The highlight of today? This early morning text exchange with my Mother: Mom: Got yelled at this morning for being in the crosswalk going into Wmart. The woman was furious leaning out her window just full of rage. Her poor family. Me: Whoa. That’s awful. What a way to start your day. [Pause] Could . . . → Read More: Another Reason Why All of Our Parents and Grandparents Should Learn to Text Dear Yellow Ball Vacuum, who I shall hereafter refer to simply as Yeller: First and foremost, you should know that I have very high hopes for you. Very high. Stroll with me, if you will, to the door opening into the garage, and take a look at Those That Came Before: Blue Bagless Eureka, . . . → Read More: New Yeller |
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