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I saw my best friend Debbie’s brother maybe twice in my life. He was nearly 15 years older, and away at college. But I did notice that one of his eyes seemed different than the other, and I remarked on it to my mother. “Don’t say anything about it,” my mother said. “It’s a glass eye. When he was little, he was running and accidentally put his eye out with scissors.” So, HE was the guy! All this time I thought the kid who ran with scissors was a fictional character created to throw a scare into kids (like th
According to the Dixie vs. Yankee accent test on www.alphadictionary.com, I’m 92 percent Dixie. My daughter sent me the test, saying she had scored 86 percent despite, as she said, “her foray into Yankeeville.” A reference to her having lived in Baltimore for a year. I hated to tell her this, but Maryland is, in fact, a Southern state. The first time I took it, I scored 86 percent as well, but in going over the answers, I realized that I do, in fact, pronounce the word “aunt” as “aint,” but only every now a
It just shouldn’t be this hard. But somehow, it always is. I try to enjoy decorating the Christmas tree, I really do. After all, it’s really important to the kids. They love gathering around the tree, carefully placing heirloom ornaments on the tree while Christmas music plays in the background, a cup of hot cocoa waiting in the kitchen. In my dreams. That’s the only place that scene has ever existed. I realized this a few days ago when I attempted to engage my children in the family tradition of putting up