February 7th, 2010

Here is a side by side comparison between your faithful hostess and the Quitta from Wasilla, former beauty contestant, at the exact same age in the same era (where all us girls got perms).

A more current picture taken the same year – 2008 – (I am a few years older than Sarah), but I could still hold my own even though Sarah has enjoyed hair extensions, a permanent lip liner tattoo, Botox, cheek implants and a major weight loss since her (faked?) pregnancy. To her credit, she does have a nice fish.

Meow.

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Posted in 'Fits |
January 14th, 2010

The new buzz phrase in the latest political propaganda blitz is “common sense conservatism”, which  I’ve seen misspelled as “commonsense conservatism”, “common-sense conservatism”, both wrong, as common and sense are distinct words. Regardless of how much the inconsistency and grammatical ignorance constantly on display in our embarrassingly illiterate media annoys me  (and Sarah Palin is the patron saint of illiteracy), what irks me more is how a simple phrase can be redefined to mean something entirely ironic and false, like “compassionate conservative” once was.

Let’s look up the phrase in a few dictionaries:

common sense  
n.  Sound judgment not based on specialized knowledge; native good judgment

Function: noun
Date: 1726

: sound and prudent judgment based on a simple perception of the situation or facts

Note the word “judgment” in both definitions. Now, let’s look up “judgment” while we’re at it:

(n) the ability to judge, make a decision, or form an opinion objectively, authoritatively, and wisely, esp. in matters affecting action; good sense; discretion

So Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Bill O’Reilly, and their attendant producers and handlers want us to believe that they are the standard bearers of a new form of conservatism based on good judgment, because they have demonstrated the ability to form objective opinions based on wisdom and discretion. Really?

This, from a woman who accepted the nomination for vice president, a physically gruelling and intellectually demanding task,  when she already had a special needs infant and a pregnant teen daughter at home, and had been elected governor of a state less than two years prior to the 2008 election; never mind her abysmal knowledge of foreign policy, domestic issues, history, geography or experience in the “lower 48.”

Was that a sample of her good judgment, of her common sense?

This, from a man who harassed a female producer of his show with lewd phone calls and sexually charged pursuit and was forced to settle a multi-million dollar lawsuit out of court to protect his job? Did that demonstrate O’Reilly’s sound judgment?

This, from a guy who throws every strand of WorldNetDaily conspiracy theory spaghetti on the wall to see what sticks, absent any research, search for facts or truth or logic? Is that sound judgment? Would anyone accuse Glenn Beck of having common sense?

Surely you jest.

Will this “commonsense conservatism” [sic] meme have legs? Karl Rove, Mary Matalin and a crew of other Fox and right-wing commentators are doing their best to make it so. When will someone, anyone, point out how ludicrous this is?

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Posted in Pollyticks |
January 4th, 2010

Take it from your friendly neighborhood insurance agent: if Rush Limbaugh was not a millionaire or he was not employed by a company with a group health plan, he could not afford to pay the bills he would have acquired from his recent visit to an emergency room in Hawaii.

If Rush Limbaugh was not gainfully employed, he could not afford the health insurance premiums at age 58 with his conditions (obesity, history of substance abuse), and now that he has had a series of tests and treatments for potential heart disease (a pre-existing condition), he would be subject to denial or rescission. He couldn’t buy health insurance at any price.

From an AP news article:

Limbaugh couldn’t resist a few political comments during his short news conference at the Honolulu hospital.

One appeared to be aimed at health care reform, when he said he got the best health treatment in the world “right here in the United States of America.”

Incidentally, Hawaii is considered “right here in the USA” when Rush is visiting, but it’s considered ”foreign” and ”exotic” by right wing pundits when Obama visits.

I don’t think there’s one thing wrong with the American health care system,” Limbaugh said. “I got no special treatment other than what anybody else that would have called 911 and had been brought in with the same kinds of symptoms.”

Perhaps; however, “anybody else” had better have a low deductible or decent insurance or the bills would be astronomical, Rush. Sure, Limbaugh could afford to self-insure, but the cost of the treatment he enjoyed would be a severe hardship for the majority of his listening audience.

Limbaugh called his health scare a “blessing in disguise.”

“It takes things like this in life maybe to prepare you for the eventuality that you are getting older, you’re not as young as you were, and not as invincible as you once thought you were,” he said.

What would really be a “blessing in disguise” and a valuable life lesson for Rush and his ilk would be if they had to experience a severe health problem *without* the benefit of good health insurance and then have to scramble to find any company willing to insure them after this type of event; never mind having to pay the tens of thousands of dollars in subsequent bills.

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January 1st, 2010

Wow, that went fast.

I would be remiss if I didn’t include a brief look back on the decade that just whirled by before this year swooshes down a hill and we’re knee-deep in another endless campaign commercial. Is there something in the theory of relativity when you hit a certain age that it seems as if time speeds up, or has time actually sped up and we weren’t told about it?

A number of significant events occurred for me this past decade: I got married a few months before the new millenium, I had a baby, I had four different jobs plus self-employment, I started a blog that became almost famous for a short time; I was stalked and harrassed by the weirdest group of mutts ever to congregate in cyberspace;  I survived a life-threatening injury that required emergency surgery and thousands of dollars of medical bills and, as a result of that error in judgment, acquired my insurance license; I wrote a book, I travelled to California four times, I went into debt, I paid off my debt, I went back into debt; I visited Houston twice, I got a divorce, I became a grandmother, I started to date again, I quit smoking, I started smoking again, I survived a cancer scare, I lost my brother to cancer, I lost my favorite cousin to cancer; I wrote a play, I flew to New York City nine or ten times, I flew to Chicago twice, I had my play produced off-Broadway; I read a couple of hundred books, millions of articles on the Net, and saw several hundred movies (mostly this year); and, of course, I met people who read my blog all over the country and made lifelong friends with several.

Yes, it’s been a whirlwind of a decade; however, let’s pause to reflect on the highlights:

2000

Remember the Y2K scare? I didn’t prepare. I didn’t buy bottled water, or take all my money out of the bank, or fill my car with gas, or buy a generator. I lived in an apartment and assumed that my parents would have the resources to find electricity and water if it really came down to it.

Best thing that happened: my son was born.

Worst thing that happened: George Bush was elected president in November. I cried.

2001

In January, I nearly froze to death in Chicago while staying in a hotel for a two-week training session for a new job. We were supposed to train in San Antonio, Texas. That job began to resemble the worst scenes from “Glengarry Glen Ross,” but I was able to take some invaluable Microsoft training while suffering the indignities of cold-calling and sales quotas.

Best things that happened: I threw out my then-husband in July for good, and I survived a near-death experience in October where I had emergency surgery in a nearly abandoned hospital.

Worst thing that happened: Nine-Eleven, of course. I cried for at least two weeks and was fired from my job for refusing to cold-call clients in New York City after the event.

2002

I started a new job with Bob the Builder and discovered blogs. This inspired me to start my own blog where I opined about true crime stories and the joys of raising another set of children and the rest, as they say, is history.

Best thing that happened: Eldest daughter graduated from college.

Worst thing that happened: Brief but nightmarish house sharing stint with the Single White Female Dog-Torturer and Psychopath who stuck me with broken locks and bills, and forced me to lose the security deposit and return, reluctantly, to apartment living.

2003

This was a pretty eventful year: I blogged about the Laci Peterson case and other spousal murder cases, gained a bit of a following, learned about the Internets the hard way, and met new and interesting people online.

Best things that happened: Scott Peterson was arrested in April, and I got to be mother-of-the-bride in May.

Worst thing that happened: The U.S. invaded Iraq on false pretenses, but I wasn’t paying very close attention to it at the time.

2004

2004 was a banner year for me, as banner years go: I went to California twice to attend the Peterson trial, met new friends and even a few “celebrities” along the way, and I spent countless hours reading trial transcripts and court documents and writing entries for my blog while managing a full-time job, two small children and a lively comment section.

Best thing that happened: the combination verdict-birthday party in Michigan in November.

Worst thing that happened: George Bush was reelected in November. I cried.

2005

I spent the first half of 2005 working with a literary agent trying to get my book published and eventually resorted to print-on-demand that may have proved a better choice in the long run. At least it’s still in print and I’m still collecting royalties (however meager) after four years. A few months after Katrina (another avoidable disaster), I closed the original blog and opened a new, private site that we dubbed “the kitchen”, because that tends to be the room where women hang out.

Best thing that happened: second daughter graduated from college. 

Worst thing that happened: Muttville.

2006

This was the year I was emancipated from corporate America, apartment living, debt and college tuition payments. I moved my little family to a house on the lake, bought a lawn mower and a snow shovel, cut off my omnipresent pony tail, took up tennis again, and started my own business. It was a brave new world and I was going to live outside cyberspace now that blogging was not my full-time avocation.

Best thing that happened: I got a room with a view – and what a view!

Worst thing that happened: The Democrats recaptured the majority in November and wasted it.

 (Overall, a pretty good year.)

2007

After a self-imposed hiatus from relationships with men, I reentered the perilous jungle of romance again, began dating, and got my mojo back. I carried on both short- and long-distance relationships, experimented with online personal ads (what a hoot!), and met some nice men who are still friends today. Because I was self-employed, I was able to be around when my children got home from school for the first time in my career. My tennis game, however, left much to be desired.

Best thing that happened: Autumn in New York.

Worst thing that happened: I lost a brother in April.

2008

Based on the consensus from writers of “years in review”, 2008 was a terrible year for most; but I had a great year. I worked about 30 hours a week making more money than I did working 50 hours a week at a traditional “job”; I visited New York and Chicago and ate at great restaurants and went to wonderful cultural events and museums; and I started working on the play that would eventually be produced in 2009.

Best thing that happened: For the first time in my life I worked on a winning political campaign.

Worst thing that happened: the crash of September ‘08 that forced me back into finding a 9-5 job in October.

2009

I’m not sorry to see 2009 in the rear-view mirror, but it wasn’t all bad. My return to corporate America was short lived – I was laid off in May, but not before I went to San Francisco and San Diego for trade shows.  My play was produced off-Broadway, and the entire experience was amazing. While I am disillusioned and becoming more apathetic about world events, I still hope for some significant changes in Washington, but I’m not holding my breath. And, I became a grandmother in July long after my youngest child was out of diapers!

Best thing that happened: having the entire summer off.

Worst thing that happened: Being broke during the Holidays.

Happy New Decade, Everyone!

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Posted in 'Fits |
December 22nd, 2009

Update I Below

It seems, based on several news stories from Utah sources, that our suspected spousal murrrderer, Josh Powell, has continued to raise eyebrows with his odd behavior – behavior that is utterly familiar to those of us who have studied The Narcissist’s Playbook of Grief and followed the Laci Peterson murder case in 2003.

The plot thickens considerably when we discover that Josh rented a car within a few hours after the mini-van in which he took his midnight camping trip was temporarily confiscated by police in order to collect evidence. According to the rental agency, Josh put “several hundred miles” on the vehicle before returning it within 24 hours. If he followed the usual course of action of amateur spousal murrrderers, Josh probably returned to the scene of the crime. Did police have the foresight to follow him? Probably, but we won’t know until later.

After clamming up and refusing to discuss details of the camping trip and securing the services of a high-profile defense attorney, Josh left Utah and showed up at a candlelight vigil for Susan in their hometown in Washington state, much to the surprise of Susan’s friends and family. He avoided any substantial contact with Susan’s family and hid from the cameras. Does that remind you of anyone? At least he didn’t have a cell phone stuck to his ear, and it’s doubtful he was talking to his girlfriend, claiming to be in Paris. But, you never know.

Currently, Josh is hiding out at his dad’s house. His dad has been openly hostile to the press and claims that Josh, along with the rest of his family, will be “vilified” by the media. Nobody can blame Mr. Powell for being defensive, but from articles about his relationship with Josh and his scorn of religion, particularly Mormonism, it’s possible he fueled the fires of discord in the Powell marriage. My hope that elders in the church would convince Josh to confess are now dashed. His dad will probably advise him to stay quiet, hope no body is discovered, and he can resume his life in Washington away from the publicity. Good luck with that one, Josh.

According to Susan’s friends, Susan had been preparing to leave Josh last year and worried he might kidnap the boys rather than share custody. Susan also allegedly created a separate bank account and was depositing money apart from the family funds, which enraged Josh and created more strife in the relationship. Are we going to discover more bad news beyond the couple’s substantial debt, bankruptcy and unemployment? Is this enough motive for murder? What would Josh gain financially by killing Susan? Nobody has indicated that there is a life insurance policy, so we have no financial motive here. It seems merely a crime of passion instigated by an argument or accusation and then covered up. This murder does not appear planned; in fact, Josh is terribly disorganized and inept. We can only hope he was also careless in his methods and left a nice, fat trail.

Meanwhile, West Valley City Police Captain, Tom McLachlan doesn’t seem too worried that Josh left town:

“The pressure is to conduct the investigation of this missing person in a legal fashion where we can get a resolution that will stand up in any court in the land.”

McLachlan’s statement came days after Joshua Powell left his Utah home to travel 900 miles to Washington state to spend the holidays with family there and attend a vigil for his missing wife.

Obviously, McLachlan knows a lot more than we do and has been quite the cool customer. Let’s hope they do a better job than cops in North Carolina.

Update I

Whoops! I guess Josh got a pre-paid cell phone and then told someone about it. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

Tim Petersen, Powell’s neighbor tells ABC 4 news that Powell came over to their house on Wednesday evening, just days after Susan disappeared and told them about a new phone he bought and asked for a ride to pick up his minivan. Petersen said, “We asked about Susan but he didn’t want to talk about her. He only wanted to talk about his new clothes and phone.”

December 16th, 2009

As long-time readers of this and other traditional crime blogs have no doubt heard or read, another beautiful, young mother has mysteriously disappeared (Susan Powell in Utah) and her goateed husband has already made most of the worst mistakes an amateur spousal murrrderer can make (with the exception of using his cell phone to signal his actual whereabouts the night in question).

Susan Powell, 28, was last seen Sunday at her home in West Valley City and was reported missing by relatives the next day.

Powell’s husband, Joshua Powell, and two children were also believed to be missing but returned home Monday afternoon. Joshua Powell said he decided Sunday night to take the children on a late-night camping trip.

“Lots of times I just go camping with my boys,” Powell told a local CBS News’ affiliate. “Just overnight. We do s’mores and stuff.”

But after not hearing from her for five days, Susan Powell’s family has become worried.

Naturally,  it’s irresistable to compare this case to Laci Peterson’s, and there are many similarities: a young, low-risk, beautiful, young mother disappears near Christmas; her handsome, clean-cut, Boy Scout husband (with a goatee) has an incomprehensible, Petersonesque alibi and lawyers up within hours of returning from the campgrounds where he claims he took his two toddlers in the dead of a bleak winter’s night; loved ones and parents circle the wagons and claim the poor, innocent husband could *never* harm his wife; to add to the suspense, the family is religious and devout, like another spousal murrrderer from Utah, Mark Hacking.

Nonetheless, I suspect we have a story that resembles more the *other* Peterson case – Mike Peterson from Durham. Why? Because I surmise that Susan Powell was murdered in a rage over something she discovered about Josh. Unlike in Laci Peterson’s murder, this was not planned, judging by the ridiculous alibi and panicked response of the usual suspect.

So, is Josh secretly gay (like Mike Peterson), or, worse, some sort of pedophile? Was he caught cheating on his wife with  cocktail waitresses he met in Nevada?  Did he rack up debt like Neil Entwistle? What was it that Susan discovered or confronted him with when he erupted? According to recent reports, a computer was seized in a search (which may yield some very interesting information), and the investigation is intensifying.

Like Laci Peterson, there is no evidence to suggest that Susan Powell left her family of her own volition: she didn’t take her keys, purse or car, she’s not a likely candidate to abandon her children, and she has no history of psychotic drama like Jennifer Wilbanks.

No, I think Joshua has to be convinced by his elders to confess and lead police to the tragic burial ground somewhere in BFE Utah en route to the desolate campgrounds. Please spare these little children the agony and trauma that Michelle Young’s daughter will experience.

November 30th, 2009

moviereelMy internet pal, Cocktailhag, has a movie review up regarding 2012. Hag enjoyed the movie precisely because it was so ridiculous, predictable, and amusing in a likely unintended way.

Since I have been watching about a movie a day since May (on average, sometimes more), I felt inspired to list a few movies that are similar to Hag’s take on 2012 – movies I enjoyed despite (or perhaps because of) the ridiculous and unrealistic suspension of disbelief required by the audience to sell the premise; or, awful, eye-rolling dialogue that sounds as if it were written by a 29-year old kid who only recently moved out of his parent’s house (and probably was), or because the movie was supposed to be maudlin, sad, tragic, and serious and I, instead, irreverently laughed.

Category 1: Beyond Disbelief

“Unbreakable” with Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson: had me going along with it to some extent until the end when I said, “Oh, for crying out loud!” More loose ends than a cat-shredded afghan.

“Children of Men” with Clive Owen – an interesting premise (although too many unbelievably dodged bullets) but like a bad Stephen King novel, undeveloped rationale and pretty ridiculous outcome.

“Fracture” with Anthony Hopkins playing a brilliant murderer (typecast?) and Ryan Gosling an ambitious district attorney prosecuting the nearly perfect crime. The movie is clever and satisfying until the end when Hopkins’ character does something so stupid, you throw a Beannie Baby at the screen in disgust. If I were in the room with the writers, I would have insisted, “He wouldn’t do that!”

Category 2: Screenwriter(s) should be Flogged

“Lucky You” with Robert Duvall and Eric Bana: such potential, such an exciting and attractive subject (high-stakes poker), such a dog of a screenplay!

“Star Trek 2009″ where’s Gene Roddenberry when we need him?

“City of Angels” with Meg Ryan and Nick Cage – the script sounds like it was plagiarized from random  Hallmark Greeting Cards.

Category 3: Are You Serious?

“Valkyrie” – great story, terrible movie.

“Angels and Demons” – it’s another laughably absurd fantasy based on unreadable Dan Brown with Tom Hanks who should know better.

“The September Issue” – this is not billed as a comedy, but it’s very funny, perhaps by accident.

 

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Posted in Reviews |
November 25th, 2009

Our friend, Denise Nix of The Daily Breeze reports of a murder trial involving an area quite familiar to Rendezvous readers (and misfits of yore), Rancho Palos Verdes. Read all about it at the link. Apparently, accused spousal murrrderer Brandon Manai, forgot one of the key rules of modern-day criminals: don’t use your cell phone during or after committing a crime if you intend for your alibi to stick.

The motive for the murder is unclear at this time. Had the victim, Julie Rosas, told her husband that she was pregnant, as is sometimes a ploy used to reel in wayward husbands? No indications of pregnancy are noted in the reports. Obviously, she wasn’t dressed for “hiking” at the time of her death, and there was no sign of a physical altercation prior to her fall. How did she get up there?  Was she brought to the cliff after being drugged? Traces of any substance (like GHB) would have disappeared by the time she was found. Her poor, grieving husband didn’t even report her missing for a couple of days and has a history of abusing women, according to an ex-girlfriend who is scheduled to testify.

Manai was sloppy and stupid, as is the case with most spouse murderers who inevitably get caught and sentenced to long prison stints, but why did he do it? There was no life insurance, no children from a previous relationship, no financial gain. We can only guess.

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November 24th, 2009

SarahPalinNoIt’s a shame when a 21st century American woman of my generation attracts worldwide publicity, attention and political clout that it is someone like Sarah Palin. We girls came to age during the wave of feminism, suffered the backlash, bit our tongues and ate crow and endured a half century of underrepresentation only to be insulted by an incompetent, vapid sociopath. Just shoot me.

I’ve been reading around cyberspace about Sarah Palin’s “women problem” – a gender gap yawning wider now than in 1984 when it became a national issue during Reagan’s second election when Geraldine Ferraro was introduced as our first woman Vice Presidential nominee. The Republican party has never ably closed the gap, but with its enthusiastic endorsement of Palin as their female icon, the animosity most women feel toward any candidate with an “R” after his or her name is only going to get worse.

So, why do most women dislike Sarah Palin? It’s absolutely not, as men have accused, because we are jealous of her good looks and charm. I think Sarah is far prettier than the hideous and despicable Ann Coulter, but at least Ann can articulate her (hateful) opinions and string a comprehensible sentence together. No, we dislike Sarah because she embodies the absolute worst stereotypes of every working mother, incompetent female manager, and promoted underachiever we have met in our struggle to succeed.

Sarah is touted as a good mom, yet she abandoned her children to be raised by the village long ago when she ran for mayor of Wasilla. This may have been for the best, since she seems to be still a teenager herself, emotionally; nevertheless, she’s hardly the model of motherhood. She is praised for her morality, yet she has demonstrated the ultimate immorality: blaming others for her mistakes and failures, never mind her pathological dishonesty. She is glamorized as a hunter and athlete, yet according to people close to her she does not shoot and her “sport” of choice is mid-distance jogging. She’s paraded around as “everywoman” yet represents no woman I know. She has more money, more domestic help, more undeserved accolades, more vindictiveness, more personal drama, and more cosmetic enhancements than any woman I know from any middle-class neighborhood.

I don’t begrudge Sarah her wealth or her ability to flash her impressive gams, but I do question the wisdom of the Republican party (and the American media) in casting her as a role model for my daughters. She’s not a role model for my daughters. She’s everything I don’t want my daughters to be: shallow, uninformed, narcissistic, spiteful, dishonest, intellectually challenged, lazy, vain, culturally bereft, misogynist, jingoistic, fundamentalist, chauvinistic, spiritually vacuous, incurious, ignorant, inarticulate, and immature.

Despite her descent to innocuous domesticity as First Lady, Michelle Obama  is a far likelier role model for American girls than Sarah Palin could ever hope to be.

4
November 23rd, 2009

Parenting can often be a wretched, vexing, thankless job.

From the moment of conception until the day we are laid out in final impiety – surrounded by vapid, curdled chrysanthemums and hideous white hydrangeas, in the only unflattering navy blue outfit in our closet, our lifeless lips smeared with clashing flamingo pink (a color we swore to never be caught dead in), to the strains of mangled Andrew Lloyd Webber on an out of tune organ – we subject ourselves to endless humiliation, deprivation, exploitation, financial sacrifices, and drudgery.

During pregnancy we watch with horror our lovely, smooth, firm bodies balloon to freakish proportions, leaving an atlas of stretch marks from Madagascar to Terra del Fuego. We suffer nausea, heartburn, constipation, indescribable labor pains, staggering losses of modesty and blood, while complete strangers probe, sterilize, slice and suture our most sacred anatomy. The cherubic bundles of joy quickly transform into insatiable, selfish demons demanding every ounce of our energy and resources, outgrowing unworn clothing and unused toys faster than we can replace our tattered cotton underwear. Our intermittent sleep or languid lovemaking is interrupted by little bodies crawling into bed with us, melancholic moans of fever, fears of monsters under the bed, vomiting, ear infections, rashes, or other mysterious maladies. We spend the next eighteen years in a constant state of vigilance and scullery, slogging through diapers and dishes and muddy shoes, tripping over skateboards and trombone cases; cringing through “new math” and piano lessons and teacher conferences; white knuckling through drivers’ ed and first dates.

If we are crazy enough to ante up beyond their eighteenth birthday, we enlist into the uniquely suffering platoon of those who forfeit privacy, serenity, security, relaxation and retirement until our ungrateful, ever molting flock finally fly from the coop. Unfortunately, some parents by then have completely lost their sense of individuality and personality, and actually miss the prodigal brats even as they are writing a check to the utility company to keep their little beasties’ lights on.

I have only realized recently why intelligent, civilized, sophisticated people subject themselves to the indignities of parenthood: it’s because of the golden, exalted, beatific prospect of grandparenthood! My finicky son, who rejects an array of tasty offerings from his mother, considers his grandmother’s saltines a gourmet treat. He bends down at each flower in her garden, sniffing with wonder and appreciation, when just days before handed his mother some hastily plucked dandelions as a gift. The presents his mother gave him lay abandoned in the corner toy box, while he takes the Spiderman his grandmother gave him to bed at night. The moment he recognizes her street, he struggles to be unhitched from his seat, so he can leap from the car and run to the door in anticipation of Grandma’s greeting hug. Grandma can do no wrong. She makes the best cookies, the best soup, and has the best toys, even though they are thirty years old and he would sooner step on them than play with them in any other venue.

Yes, it is a rude, cruel job, this parenting gig. But at least I know what I can look forward to now that I’m a grandmother!

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Posted in Kids of All Ages |