“Not cool! This is NOT cool!” I exasperate. “What? What is it?” David responds. “I peed my pants FIVE times today while coughing!!!” “Oh hon… You’ll do better tomorrow… Tomorrow you can make it to six!” “Do NOT make me laugh.” I have already crossed my thighs in preparation for any laugh leakage. David and…
I’m not sure what we do to them, but eventually, all cats in our household run galloping towards madness. We’ve had cats who spontaneously paralyze, suck on carpet and hiss at the doorbell. Since we moved to the new house, Lola – sveltest of our felines – is now attempting to change breeds – she…
… when you’re in the midst of peri-menopause? They tell you about the sleep disturbances, the night sweats – all that great stuff – they don’t tell you that your dreamscape will be a cross between Terry Gilliam and Wes Anderson. Last night, Inigo Montoya was waxing my bikini line before he replaced my kneecaps…
“Ooooh… naked body…” says David as we hop into the shower together. He presses himself against me. “Dude.“ “What?” He lathers me suggestively. COUGH. COUGH. HACK. WHEEZE. spit. He stops momentarily. “You okay?” “Oh yeah, I’m great. Lung butter up to my clavical, but I’m good.” “You know what would make you feel better?” Without…
“Just one more? Please can’t we watch just one more?” I beg. “No Mummy. We’ve already watched three episodes. You’re done,” says Rissa. I look over to David forlornly. He shrugs. “The kid has spoken. It’s bedtime for Bonzo.” I throw myself across their laps, wailing in dissatisfaction. They are unmoved. As I am lying…
On the plus side? I’m 46 years old and still alive. If this were the Middle Ages, I’d be dead already, or close to dead, or, at the very least, a great-Grandma, with incredibly saggy boobs because they didn’t have proper brassieres back then. On the minus side? The part of my brain that is…
“Heather, what do you want for… HOLY CRAP!!!” says David as he sticks his head behind the shower curtain. He’s reacting to the shower wall, upon which I have left all the ‘extra’ hair from my head. And by ‘extra’ hair, I mean the hair that I regularly lose when I wash my hair. “Are…
WARNING: There will be foul language in this post. MOTHERFUCKING DWARVES.* I’m sorry, but… REALLY… REALLY?!? I’m sure that the lining of my uterus is chock-a-block with rich mineral deposits which can be sold at a premium on the Disc World, but I would just like to state for the record that I did…
“So what did you do in school today?” “We had a work period in English.” “Journal entries for your ISU?” “Yep.” “Oh, and in Geography we got to watch a video.” “What kind of video?” “A video about sewers. It’s called Crap Shoot.” “Seriously?” I burst into laughter. “Madame showed you a video about sewers…
Minuit, the oldest and most crotchety of our cats has a predilection for lap dances. Not the pervy receiving of… it’s not like she’s hanging around at the Brass Rail with $5 bills in her paws, waggling her eyebrows at the dancers. This cat, this 6 year old, overweight feline… she gives a kick-ass, albeit…