This is my future. Look at it. Is it a photo of a purse with faux fur on it? Yes, yes it is.
Is it adorable? Yes, but that’s not the point. And the blinged out phone cover? Also adorable, but also gaudy, no?
The point is this: I’m turning into my mother.
Don’t get my wrong, I tolerate love my mother, so turning into her is isn’t a bad thing.
But so soon? So quickly?
I figured I’d be at least late 50s before the resemblences started creeping in. Apparently not. READ MORE
For five days out of each month, I transform into the Incredible Hulk. My skin swells underneath the waistband of my pants, my IQ drops down to the level of a dull-witted reality star and my emotions run the broad gamut of annoyed to infuriated. My children become miniature obstacles to my happiness and my husband – well, I rarely seem him during those few days because he has learned to leave whatever room in the house I happen to be occupying. And while my skin doesn’t turn green necessarily, the flush of barely controlled rage that I seem to have simmering underneath my focused and determined facade certainly makes me feel like I am standing out in a crowd. READ MORE
I was sitting with my husband and kids in McDonald’s stealing their fries, when I nearly gave my first adult-to-adult time out. This is akin to a citizen’s arrest but much scarier to administer.
This is what happened: A woman passed by our table and went into the lady’s room hastily. The odd part is that she had her fountain drink in her hand. I shuddered a little at the thought of taking your beverage into a public bathroom, but then convinced myself that she was just dumping the ice in the sink and throwing it away. READ MORE