What 80s movie are you? What’s your old person’s name? Which Dwarf are you? What breed of dog? What Harry Potter Character? What ice cream flavour? What Shakespearean heroine? What turn of the century inventor? What Norse God? What Titan? What Dr. Seuss book? What Mathematical Equation? What Scrabble letter? Okay, I admit it –…
It was my favourite day. MOVIE BINGE DAY. It’s right up there with Christmas Holidays with family and Front Row tickets to Violent Femmes. MOVIE BINGE DAY has to include at least three, if not four movies. (Just seeing two isn’t nearly decadent enough.) David’s even created an app so that you can plan your…
I’m going to have to invest in new sports bras. More of the kind that do up in the back. Because, although I can clad myself in one of the pull-over-the-head types, if I very carefully manoeuvre around my damaged shoulder, getting this same sports bra off when it’s completely sodden with my post-exercise full-body…
I was just brushing my teeth. Brusha, brusha, brusha, brusha… Tongue a little pasty – better brush that too. Out comes the tongue! The toothbrush makes contact… Brush….. If this had been an animated film, you would have seen the bacteria on my tongue hitting the air, not unlike the spores from the kick-ass fungus…
“OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD!!! Turn it up! TURN IT UP!!!“ Muse’s Supremacy is playing in the car. David cranks it. “Best dirty guitar ever!!! You know where I feel this? IN MY VULVA!!!“ “MUMMY!“ “But I do. Every time those dark notes from that guitar kick in – right there in my…”…
Utterly exhausted, I climb into the back seat, voluntarily giving up ‘shotgun’ to Rissa. “Really? I really get to sit in the front?!?” “Sleepy. So very, very sleepy.” My mid-afternoon doze is kicking in, in a major way. Peri-menopause and thyroid disease make for insistent bedfellows. One pillow is under my head, plus I’ve added…
“Well, HELLO there…” says David. “Hiya. Don’t get excited. This isn’t for you,” I say, standing naked in our bedroom. Even though the weather in Southern Ontario this summer is not steaming hot, it’s still humid. The kind of humid that starts you sweating not 30 seconds after you’ve had a cool shower to get…
“Is there such a thing as ‘Cosplay?’ ” I ask. David raises an eyebrow. We’re still lying in bed, the alarm has just gone off. He yawns. “Uhhhhh…. yeah. Costume Play. Like people who dress up from Star Trek or Anime or Marvel characters.” “I was having this dream last night and it was all…
“Are they going to fit in?” “I’m trying to make them,” says Rissa. “I swear to you that these breasts were not this large in June.” “I think you might be right.” “What is going on?!?” “I don’t know, Mummy.” Rissa huffs, as she places her knee in my back to gain leverage. “You can’t…
“Just so you know, if they tell me I have to amputate the arm to save my life, I’m not going to fight them.” David doesn’t even pause. “Damned straight, you’re not. That sucker’s coming off!” “For the first little while, until I have a proper prosthetic, I’ll have arm proxies. Like when I…