Saturday, November 2, 2024

Apparently, my children are attending spy school. That is the only explanation for why I, the consummate prying parent, am so completely in the dark about what it is they DO all day.

As the work-at-home mom-type person, I have become quite the hostess. Granted, not for cocktail parties, holiday dinners, or any gathering involving guests over the age of 10.

There is a reason I have no desire to travel the world, see exotic places, and meet new and exciting people and it is this: new and exciting people who live in other places are strange.

Ah, Christmas, that wonderful time of year when brightly-wrapped gifts under the twinkling tree contain treasures untold.

As I see it, the problem with writing is obvious: all the good lines are taken. If there was any justice in the world I would open this column about 2006 with "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Each holiday season brings certain traditions that are unavoidable. For instance, at some point in December, you're going to turn on the radio and hear The Royal Guardsman singing the Snoopy vs.

They say money is the root of all evil, but when it comes to modern gifting that's not even remotely true.

As news of Tickle Me Elmo's drug bust sped across the wire, there was only one conclusion that could be drawn from the tragedy: clearly sesame seed is a gateway drug.

Look, I don't want to alarm anyone, but last week was Thanksgiving. How did that happen? It seems like only yesterday, I was first perusing the Christmas holiday decor alongside the Fourth of July merchandise.

If there is anything to be learned from the third grade it is that I have long suspected, but only recently proven, that teachers go into the educational profession not because they love children, but rather, because they hate parents.