Once upon a time there lived a boy and a girl. Read more
Category: Read (page 2 of 4)
This is a classic from the email newsletter archives. You should subscribe if this is your jam.
Once upon a time, I was sleeping on my little sissy’s couch. It was either that or snuggle with her in bed and since her son was still nursing, I was afraid of awkward encounters of the midnight snacking variety. Anyway, I awoke to the sound:
Click…click…rattle…rattle. Read more
The plane was unharmed, or at least not any more harmed than it had been before the unfortunate fall to the concrete beneath the tree. Jack blew on it with relief, dislodging a leaf from a wheel, and then spit on it to rub out an especially dirty spot on the intact wing.Read more
I know the War Office will have contacted you by now (I also know receiving communication from them must fill you with anxious trepidation: I am so sorry to be the cause of that), and you will have been told that I am back where I should be. Safe and returned to duty.
They tell me I spent several days recovering at the hands of a beautiful war nurse (I am only kidding and testing if you are paying attention. In truth, she was shaped like an elephant and had a thicker mustache than I) but knowing the war to be coming a close, I chose to finish my post rather than come home to you just yet. I hope you aren’t angry, though you know how are adorable I find you when you are angry.
I have been transferred to the Rifle Brigade 10th Battalion BEF for now. I think they are leery of giving me a plane since I rather annihilated the last one. Being on the ground is no place for me though: I march through the mud and muck with stomping feet and scowl at everyone I see. Read more
You will get the news soon enough, but by some kind hand of God and one enemy soldier, you will hear it from me first. I have been shot down and am now behind enemy lines. Now don’t be scared. I am injured, yes, but not mortally – even my spirits are lifted as this letter is being lifted: right over the walls by the very man who brought me down.
You see, the flight was cloudy, and I became disoriented. Before I knew what had happened, I’d been hit. The man who did it followed me as I made an emergency landing. I wish I’d known then it was an enemy airfield. They are so hospitable they wouldn’t hear of me leaving! Read more
Once upon a time, we were coming out of a strange and wonky, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year, and we were left with little in the way of personal possessions. This had been quite tolerable since we kind of prefer the minimalist life anyway and you’d be surprised at how much you do NOT need.
I basically AM Marie Kondo. But, you know, chubby and American.Read more
I have given something a lot of thought lately: mommies the world over would be excellent in espionage.
I think the C.I.A. should hire us, and I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty of submitting one large resume on behalf of moms everywhere.
Of course, we’ll have to have Spy Names, like Scully, or Agent 99, or Bond … James Bond – something like that. Give it some thought. Seeing as how once upon a time, approximately three hundred years ago, I was a ballerina, I’ve decided to be Tutu. I’ll have a pointe shoe phone. Read more
They didn’t really, but don’t underestimate a hunk of Camembert, a wedge of Bleu, and some artfully arranged Cracked Pepper crackers. Why? Because to me sophisticated finger foods sounds a lot like Date Night.
Date Night in the olden days of my marriage (back in the 1800s, haha) meant a movie in a theater, an overpriced dinner out that left us praying the rosary for our checking account (and we aren’t even Catholic), mooshy cards written to each other, high heels, cologne, and a walk holding hands.Read more
What could possibly go wrong when hunting the rare North American Christmas Tree with your intrepid family?
Every year comes our annual Christmas tree hunting/stalking/butchering expedition to the North Pole. Because after all, it just isn’t Christmas until
- near death experiences have been lived
- tempers have flared
- marriage vows have been stretched and re-thought
- small children have cried
- large adults have cried
- and my Charlie Brown tree is safely kerplunked in my living room.
For those of you who enjoy killing the spirit of Christmas and making Baby Jesus cry by purchasing a plastic tree, I will pray for you. But oh sugar plum fairy, you are missing out! Read more