Life Out Loud

I have probably bored you at length with my battles with bats, which are far more plentiful this summer than at any other time in memory.

It seems to me to be patently unfair that firsts get all the fanfare - first step, first love, first kiss.

I firmly believe that two of the most daunting - albeit well-intentioned - statements in the English language are thus: "When God closes a door, He opens a window" and "God has a plan.

With all due respect to Dr. Dolittle, if I could talk to the animals what I would say is this: Dudes, I need my space.

I can't even get arrested in this town. Well, OK, technically I could probably get arrested, but what I probably wouldn't get is a CNN ticker and headline news.

Hanging upside down at 45 mph is definitely NOT the time to start fretting about your child's hip-to-shoulder ratio.

Pity the people who flocked to be married this past weekend, convinced that all it took was a magic number, in this case the date of 7-7-07, to insure their wedded bliss.

It was the use of the phrase "party circuit" that finally put me over the edge. The phrase was used in conjunction with the word "birthday" as in, "Are you doing the birthday party circuit?" The term used to explain that any self-respecting modern child must first have their "actual birthday day party" with cake and presents from immediate family followed by their "class party" whereby they take treats into class.

The folly of youth is best demonstrated in all the instances when wise and well-meaning adults counseled me to "enjoy life, it goes so fast!" I, with the boundless wisdom of a teenage know-it-all, responded to this insight with a well-practiced eye roll and scoffing disdain.

Well, the bad news is that I can now officially call Mr. Wonderful "my old man." The good news is that I'd rather be poked with a hot stick than do so.