I can slide through a crack under a door
Have you ever wondered what goes through your husband’s or boyfriend’s brain, especially after NCAA basketball and before Opening Day? The answer is: not much. You might also wonder how he survived before he met you, given his inability to take care of his most basic needs.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but women everywhere are wearing leggings and boots. I go grocery shopping – I see leggings and boots. I walk my dog – more leggings and boots. I go to the funeral home and the deceased is wearing — you guessed it — leggings and boots. What gives?
Shopping with my wife Liz is like the old TV show I Dream of Jeannie. Remember how Jeannie, with a blink and a nod, could teleport herself anywhere she wanted? That’s Liz. One second she’s looking at coffee makers, I turn my head, and BOING – she’s in Women’s Apparel. When I finally track her down,
I had come home in the middle of the afternoon to surprise my wife Liz. But it was me who was surprised, shocked actually. I caught her red-handed, watching an inappropriate cable TV show. They were actually showing a couple, a man and a woman….fixing up their house. And they weren’t fighting.
As we get ready for back-to-school, it’s an opportunity to reflect on the fact that “tomorrow’s leaders” are in our midst. They are our nation’s future engineers, nuclear plant technicians, unemployed English majors, and doctors who, at some point in time, will slice you open and remove innards you
It sneaks up on me every year. I scarcely have a chance to haul the Christmas tree to the curb and turn the page on the calendar, and there it looms: February 14th, Valentine’s Day. I hear a voice in my head: “What are you going to give Liz? What are you going to give Liz?”
My twin brother and I have big heads. The first person to become painfully aware of this was my dear departed mother:
“It’s eighty degrees with a gentle breeze, Jerry,” he casually mentions when we talk on the phone. “Sweethearts are picnicking; families are frolicking at the beach….”
Can you feel it coming on? The hate, I mean.