Many aren’t religious, but some are, and the forty days of self-denial are rapidly approaching. Learning to Fly wants your ideas, so share.
And it’s Ashley and Marques’s anniversary, as Ashley writes in Pretty Ashley. “I was not annoying enough to drive Marques away” (despite the fact that he steals the Cowboy pillow, whatever that is) and let’s all add: “and he wasn’t [insert appropriate gerund here] to drive you away, Ashley.” But many happy more to both of them.
In The Big Piece of Cake, Kate Coveny Hood says her special-needs son is weird, and then proves to be a parent after my own heart, basically telling all of us, that while he may be weird, he’s the best four-year old ever (hereinafter BFYOE). Of course she’s wrong, my four-year old is the BFYOE,* but Ms. Hood has won my heart.
DC Femella recalls learning about menstruation from her macho-dude dad as her most embarrassing childhood memory (but it actually reads as rather sweet). Of course, this also recalls DC Mike’s plan to look at his daughter right in the shoes and tell her about the facts of life – or the one week or so out of each month for the next thirty years of her life, anyway, as cited by Restaurant Refugee last week. Ah, the joys of parenthood.
I know nothing about the charities involved, but I want to help all those who love poker (no clue here) or wine (more than a clue, much to my sorrow and joy) or beer (hey, it’s nice to drink on a hot day) justify their vices in these hard times. So Pamela’s Punch tells you to “Play Poker for All the Right Reasons.” Why not? Charitable donations are down, so do your part and drink and/or gamble for good.
I’m a New Englander (which accounts for the lack of charm), so I saw the snow this morning and thought “Oh, [expletive deleted], they’re going to cancel school even though nothing accumulates. Dumb***!/?I*s. Trying to ruin my life and vacation leave schedule.” Imagine how happy I was when no school system with which I have a connection did anything regarding a basically non-existent snowfall. Confusing takes a different, DC-type, approach. Sorry you didn’t get the day off work/school for a snow flurry. My kids were deeply upset also (they really wanted to sled even after I explained that flurries don’t lead to sledding). So you (the author of Confusing and everyone else in DC) have their (my kids’) heartfelt sympathy. And they (my kids), school-evading-wusses-that-they-are, feel very sorry for themselves and you.
*Let’s not get into the cosmology of how my now-nine-year old was the BFYOE in 2004-2005, but accept as true that Ms. Hood’s four-year old is BFYOE, and that my current four-year old is the BFYOE, and that my now nine-year old was the BFYOE at the appropriate time. If you have a child who is now or has ever been four and you can’t rewrite this paragraph to include your own BFYOE, there’s nothing wrong with your kid. Got it? If you don’t understand that logic at all, I can only assume you don’t have children or nieces and nephews. You probably also have free time and clean, new, tastefully-arranged furniture that stays clean, new, and tastefully arranged. My congratulations or condolences, as appropriate.