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Sucking on a Stick of Gross with a Heaping Side of Disgusting (or, Mmm! Dinner!)
For years, I’ve had a strict, no-complaints-at-dinnertime rule. If my kids don’t like dinner, they may say, “Thank you, Mom, for making dinner,” and that is all they may say. It’s a good, sturdy, sensible-shoes kind of rule, ’cause nothing’s quite so demoralizing as slaving over dinner only to hear a wee little, high-pitched voice say,…
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The Transitive Property of Parenting
This conversation between my cousin and his kid just happened at my dinner table: My cousin: Do you want ketchup? The kid: Yes. My cousin: Do you want ketchup? The kid: Yes. My cousin: Do you want ketchup? The kid: Yes. My cousin: Do you want ketchup? The kid: Yes. My cousin: Do you want…
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On the Importance of Taxidermy
“I plan on recruiting a commune,” my husband said reassuringly. Oddly, I didn’t feel reassured. Blogging has provided an unanticipated opportunity to get to know the inner workings of my husband’s mind. Now, I’ll be honest; Greg’s mind terrifies me. So much so that I don’t often go there. I prefer to stay in the…
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Archimedes’ Principle
Cai and Cael, our 4-year-old twin boys, took a bath tonight. Cai accused me of overfilling the tub because the water ran out of the overflow drain when he got in. I did overfill the tub, but I don’t like being wrong a whole lot (read: at all). So I thought I ought to correct…