To the man in the hardware store: You might remember my son. He was wearing a Spiderman costume while shopping with his father. Y’all spoke briefly there, and when my son came home, a grin ran over to me and the words tumbled over and out: MAMA! A man said that I had the best [...]
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This Yankee went to NASCAR for the first time ever. I attempted to live tweet it but was completely distracted by my own jorts. In fact, my red, white and blue ensemble complete with a Walmart bag were a huge hit. And by huge hit, I mean no beer was spilled on me. We arrived [...]
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At the local McDonald’s, the play area has a no smoking sign. Which wouldn’t be too exciting, except IT’S ON AN ASHTRAY. It’s either a diabolic psychological experiment or a brilliant ruse by smoking parents. Except when a mom started smoking while we were playing there, she moved as far away from the ashtray as [...]
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I am not Southern. I don’t puddle. I don’t host BBQs that include pulled pork, graduation parties that include country music or meet-the-baby events. And I don’t do small talk. The one Southern thing that I do, or did, is have Southern children. Born and bred in the gentile capital of the Confederacy. And we [...]
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My daughter is up from her one-hour-drive-me-nuts-because-she’s-only-napping-once-a-day-where-is-my-three-hour-nap naps, and I have the brilliant idea of taking my kids to the busiest mall in the Richmond area at 4 p.m. on a Friday. I live in the South. On a Friday, rush hour starts at 4 p.m.. And during the summer, it’s noon. This is probably [...]
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I grew up in a small town in Connecticut. We had five thousand residences and two police cars. (so if you passed both of them you could speed home!) Our jail was a chair that you were handcuffed to (in case you miscount the police cars). Our high school was combined with the town next [...]
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We are driving. Well, Scott is driving. I don’t even have to remember if that’s true. Because it is. I hate driving. Conflictingly enough, I also hate Scott driving. Because he’s a bad driver. After multiple arguments over me NOT WANTING TO DRIVE and me TELLING HIM HOW TO DRIVE, we’ve compromised (marriage, eh? I’m [...]
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E: Let’s go outside. Me: Are you sure? E: YES! I open the door. To Hades. My right thumb begins to melt as I push the door wider. I’m going to be unable to grasp scissors or open my mail. I’m going to have to move in with our neighborhood opossum to find food. And [...]
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