I’m Afraid the Answer is Yes.

Ali (my sister): Let me tell you. There is a special place in hell for those who cut a cream-filled donut in half, and leave the rest of it just oozing there in the conference room.

Megan: Absolutely.

Ali: All the innards rush out. Irretrievable and utterly useless.

Megan: Indeed. I suspect this is a complaint that most lions have about leftover antelopes.

Dad: What are you guys? Niles and Frasier?

She Nods and Nods

So I went to a thing today that talked about community organizing on a one-on-one level. It was an interesting workshop that centered, in part, on collecting power for change. The guy who gave the presentation was part of a Catholic organization, and as he taught us pleasant Iowans about how power can be a good thing, he mentioned Mother Theresa. “Mother Theresa!” he said. “She was tough. She was ruthless. Do you know where she sat when she rode in a plane?” Nobody answered. He stood right in front of James and me. “On the plane,” he said. “Every time. Do you know where she sat?”

Dearies, I did not know the answer. But you will be proud. In the name of sensitivity and decorum, I refrained from saying, “On the dashboard?”

The answer, by the way, is that she sat in first class. She said this is where all the rich people were, and she needed the rich to contribute to her cause.

(Originally posted May 5, 2018)

I Bought Some Chocolate Too

Yesterday, on our first truly warm day, I went to Walgreens. (We party hard in this town.) As I was walking through the parking lot, a woman about my age hollered after me. “You just look so cute!” she said.

I gave her my biggest smile. “Why thank you!” 

“And I don’t mean any offense by this.” She approached me halfway. “But you just look so comfortable. I mean, like you put on what made you comfortable, and got on out there.”

And then I went inside and bought all the Zoloft.

(Originally posted April 13, 2018)

Planning Ahead

We’re getting a snowstorm over the next few days. James just left for band rehearsal and then some grocery shopping. “Get toilet paper,” I said. “And M&Ms.” He grabbed his coat. “And if you have to choose,” I said, “get M&Ms.” 

Post-Easter snowstorms allow for chocolate. And while we’re on the subject of Easter, I have discovered a liturgical loophole. In many traditions, Eastertide is supposed to last for fifty days. So, you know, feast on. 

And just because Wikipedia facts are cool: On the first Sunday after the Russian Orthodox Easter, celebrants put Easter eggs on their loved ones’ graves. Just so you know, when the time comes, Cadbury will do fine for me.

(Originally posted April 8, 2018)