Where has all the humor gone?

These matters of the heart don't always pave the way for a lot of laughs, but there have been some.

When I showed my daughter my latest work her reply was, "It's long."

Self-soothing techniques in the midst of angst include small squares of dark chocolate from a private stash that I go to whenever anxiety strikes. This explains the perpetual ten pounds I can't get rid of, but Thing 2 is on to me. I've given up on the "private" part of the stash, but I did ask if he could please take the ten pounds as well. "I'll try, mom," said Thing 2 and then thoughfully added, " but you know I like to move and you like to sit."


Snuggle time with Thing 1 often means soaking in the smell of her freshly washed hair. I was dating myself by telling her that there used to be a shampoo called "Gee Your Hair Smells Terriffic." I guess my own clean-up after dinner was less than perfect because she said, "Gee, Your Hair Smells Like Bacon."

Again, ouch.

Finally, in order to calm my racing mind, I was reading about writing last night. Why I thought this would calm me isn't clear now, and it certainly didn't work. So I kept reading. And reading. Big man gave up and I could feel his stare. The exchange went something like this:

"Stop bullying me with your stare. I'm reading. Go to sleep."

Silence. More staring.

"You are a bully."

"Hon, we're like-minded souls. We don't even need words. You know what I am thinking."


My turn to stare.

The lights went out....on his side.

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