Marital truth of the day: “Nobody is more surprised than a husband hearing about his wife’s plans for the second time.” (Laura Marie Gordon) It’s a tired trope, the one about how husbands don’t actually listen to what their wives say. This is not true. I’m positive that every ...
I remember when creepy was cool. As little kids, we spun chilling, ghoulish ghost stories full of severed hands and bloody eyeballs rolling across the floor to see which of us could scare the others the most. We giggled ourselves silly. The more horrific the tale, the louder we laughed and ...
The teenage girl lowered knotted bedsheets out her second-story window. I sat in the shadows of my balcony, enthralled by the “show” at the apartment building next to mine. When the bedsheets reached the ground, one of two boys loitering on the lawn wrapped the end of the sheet around ...
Last night I had this dream that longtime friends stopped by my place. While I chatted with Jim, Gina pulled a couple of laundry baskets from the closet and sorted my dirty clothes conveniently piled on the floor. “I was just about to get that,” I said after she finished. Not even ...
I have reached the baggy years of life. I know this because of a meme I read the other day: “How to be an adult: Have a bag of cords, a gift bag full of gift bags, a plastic bag full of plastic bags, and bags under your eyes.” I’ve been bagged. It’s like someone prowled through my apartment and peeked — but didn’t have the courtesy to steal even one bag of plugs, cords, cables, chargers and adapters that don’t fit anything I own anymore but I keep because — say it with me — I might need that one day. I’m thinking of braiding the wads of power cords, phone ...
The only “password” I had to remember growing up was my locker number. And I wasn’t always eager to use it. My textbooks were in that locker. And, my nose suggested, a dirty gym sock or two from the previous semester. Even when I didn’t want to, I remembered my locker password. My ...
