There’s a difference between mucus and phlegm. I mean beyond the spelling. Although, frankly, just spelling ‘phlegm’ gives me a sick philologist’s thrill. That ‘g’ – it is so tasty. Basically, mucus is supposed to be there and phlegm isn’t. Mucus relates to actual mucoid tissue – like say in your nose or eyes or…
A slightly bigger cross-body bag. In a fancy colour. That’s all I wanted. Slightly larger than the bag already slung across my shoulders, my affordable purple Kipling bag, the physical representation of which gave me a template for the size the new bag needed to be bigger than. ‘Cause unless you have a small tape…
I don’t do it on purpose. It’s just that in my capacity as impulsive animal saviour, I may, on the rare occasion, leave them with PTSD. There you are, a woolly bear caterpillar or a fat earth worm, trying to make your way across the asphalt bike path, when you suddenly find yourself rolled, pushed,…
I missed being the small spoon. If I didn’t really throw my arm over David’s side, I could almost manage the big spoon. But small spoon? Months had passed since I’d been able to lie on my right side and claim that privilege. Heavy sighs. Discomfort. Near tears… a new nighttime ritual. “What is it…
SPOILER ALERT! The soft porn had been unexpected. From what I knew of the books, I’d gleaned that there’d be kilts, horses, time travel, romance to be sure – but the soft porn? A delightful bonus. The opening allusion to sex in the first episode of Outlander – was just that – allusory. Squeaky bedsprings…
“Get out of her!” Firm shake. Firm shake. “OUT! YOU. GET. OUT. OF. HER!!!“ My hands around her throat now – Chi-Chi’s eyes bugging out even more. She’s making gagging sounds, but I can still see it’s not her. “GET OUT! OUT! OUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!!!!“ “Heather.” “GET OUT!!!“ “Heather…” “YOU. LEAVE. MY. BABY. RIGHT. NOW!” David’s hand…
Butt. Butt. BUUUUUUTT. She is the smallest of our cats, but she packs a punch when she’s headbutting you first thing in the morning. Her small feline cranium careens into my temple, followed by little cat teeth attempting to groom me. Then this: “Puh! Puh! Puh! Gaaaaaaaag!” as she realizes that shoulder-length human hair is…
Rissa’s clear, perfectly pitched (to our ears) soprano drifts down the stairs. She is in the shower, as she is every night after her dance classes. For the grace that she exhibits as a dancer, this child, after 3 hours of sweating, smells like a dead goat. David and I are both working on our…
People say the stupidest crap to new moms. One of my close friends just welcomed her first baby to the world and people have been saying truly moronic, unfeeling, make-a-new-mother-doubt-herself, crap to her. To these morons I say: Yes, you have had a baby yourself. THIS baby, however, is not YOUR baby. THIS baby is…
“I love you,” says David as we snuggle in under the covers. “And I love you,” I return. I contentedly sigh. “Life is good.” “Life IS good.” “Yep.” Smooch. Smooch. You know how sometimes your brain goes off on these weird tangents? One minute, I’m kissing my husband and the next I’m doing math. Rissa…