The Glamorous Life Of The Modern Day Soccer Mom
The Glamorous Life Of The Modern Day Soccer Mom
Why do we hike 2 miles through mud and over sod in our favorite heels to bake in full sun for 3 ½ hours, all the while wondering who invented pantyhose and whether it’s too late to kill him?
The graduates. We do it for the graduates.
I’ve got some questions for these knowledge-soaked, gown-draped, funny-hatted, glistening individuals.
What’s with your hats? A mortarboard?
It’s that time of year again.
Time to shake and bake while our loved ones stride across the stage.
You want to be a graduation audience member? Let’s see if you’ve got the endurance, savvy, and possibly even stupidity necessary to make the grade.
Ahhh – the audience – that group of adoring fans that entertains delusions of homicide as the ceremony plods along.
Just Because You’re At Graduation Doesn’t Mean You’re Smart!!!
by Gina Valley
I was subjected to unjustifiable torture this weekend.
That’s right, I attended a graduation ceremony.
My nephew, my older sister’s son (she says that I don’t need to point out she’s older. But, I do need to. Because she’s older. Much, much older. And, she always made me be Ken when we played Barbies when I was little.) (Actually,
Just ’cause we love ’em doesn’t mean they’re smart.
We had a dog named Douglas. We loved him all very much.
But, and I mean that in the nicest possible way, Douglas was an idiot.
Often when I’d look at Douglas I’d say to him, “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”
He was pretty. He was a lab and saluki mix, with shiny black fur that was soft like a rabbit’s.
They’re trying to drive me insane.
No, not my pack.
Well, them, too, but I’m talking about those knit, Ninja-skilled, foot festoon-ers.
Is there anything more futile and infuriating than trying to keep a supply of clean, paired up socks?
Oh. My. Gosh.
Why is that absolutely impossible to do?
Socks seem to disappear at our home right before our eyes.
The Food Network is like crack.
I know it’s bad for me, but I keep going right back to it time after time after time.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like to cook. I love to cook, actually. But, watching the Food Network makes me yearn to cook like they cook. Nothing else will do.
I look at my cooking scenario and nearly scream,
