Luman L. Chapman’s design, 1863 When the words left her mouth – it was epiphanic! “Boob Cage.” That’s what Rissa called it. “Boob Cage.” What a revelation! ‘Cause that’s exactly what a bra is. A cage for your boobs. It is the perfect description. It completely brings to mind the sensation at the end of…
I’ve started trolling the Humane Societies. The Rescues. The Dog Associations. I’ve got the bug. And once I’ve got the bug – I can’t be stopped. We may as well just say that we’ll have a dog for Christmas. Butch – possibly my undoing… On a recent walk, David and I both agreed that we’d…
It was supposed to save us money in the long run. This tiered, wooden grouping of minature stacked presents Advent Calendar that we found at Canadian Tire. 24 wee little gift boxes with adorable hinged doors and one larger gift box for Christmas morning. It was PERFECT! No more throwing the old cardboard chocolate receptacles…
* The names have been changed to protect the innocent, but that only works if you haven’t personally been to this particular clinic. If you HAVE been to this clinic, you know EXACTLY who I’m typing about. “Which physiotherapist would you prefer? Justin is available…” “NO! NOT JUSTIN!!! … Uh, I mean… how about Walter…
“So if Rissa were a lesbian and she had a girlfriend, would you let the girlfriend sleep over? You know, seeing as there’d be no threat of pregnancy?” asked David. “NO!!” The word came out even before I had time to reflect. I think I was a shocked as David. Heather, the liberal minded, had…
WARNING: This post is about girly bits David was away all last week. So on Friday, I wanted to spiff up for his return. You know, wash and style the hair, shave the legs, groom the girly bits. I wanted to be all smooth and nice smelling – although frankly after a week of sleeping…
“He may only touch your boobs if he is doing it with two separate Swiffers held from the length of their poles.” My daughter is now of an age where there’s a real possibility that dudes will be touching her boobs. She has a boyfriend (whom I adore), but he’s still a teenaged boy with…
I woke up this morning and saw this in my backyard: Then out the kitchen window, looking east: And from our front window: I know that there are naysayers out there, who hate the snow, who grumble and pout at the first sight of it, but I’m not one of them. I love the first…
They all seem so innocent. Those plexi-glassed bins, with their silver scoops. The aisle with its spices and herbs – the colourful cake sprinkles. The plastic bags with their attending labelling closures. The cute little golf pencils, to label the afore-mentioned closures. A little of this, a little of that… “Ooooooh…. plantain chips! I LOVE…
Friday night. Bedtime. Rissa wriggles spasmodically under her blankets. “I’ve got something in my pants!” Sigh. “What do you have in your pants?” “A sliver or something!” “A sliver? How can you have a sliver?” “I don’t know, maybe from the dance studio.” Stalling. She is stalling the bedtime process. “Just ignore it.” “Ignore it?!?…