If you had peeked into her room, you would have seen a frail, sick woman. That isn't what I saw.
All tagged Family
If you had peeked into her room, you would have seen a frail, sick woman. That isn't what I saw.
Maybe it was the chocolate lab puppy. Perhaps it was the parrot.
No one seems to remember exactly what it was about the bachelor who moved into the townhouse next door that first attracted the attention of three inquisitive kids.
One of my colleagues assured me that this isn't just my bad luck. This happens to everyone and simply proves his theory that mechanical devices can actually tell how much money you have in the bank.
Our childhood home cost my parents $7,000. It didn’t come with a refrigerator, let alone a fireplace.
There are roughly 7.8 million people living in Vietnam’s capital and it seems every single one of them is roaring around town on a motor scooter. (Actually, the best estimate is that there are 4 million scooters in the city. That seems low to me.)
For years my father drove around with a beakless duck decoy on the back seat of his car, as he searched for a replacement part.
Turns out, my son is part of a nationwide frigid fraternity. Male Nojacketus.
My parents were going to a doc who advertised on a radio station that once aired a two-man comedy show that had amused my father in the 1970s.
The only thing we know for sure about my grandfather is where he is. His remains are in a cemetery in South River, N.J.
These parents, the same busybodies who schedule play dates where they vigilantly enforce “sharing” rules, want to be present during the only 30 minutes of the day when kids get to act like, well, kids.
A weekend so splendid that it couldn’t even be spoiled by Ole Miss’ crushing loss to Mississippi State Thanksgiving night.
In all the years I sat at my mother's table, I never remember anyone ever asking her for a recipe. The food was passable. The company was priceless.
It was a responsibility that I took seriously. And I resented the high school kids who defied me when I ordered them to stop.
They start launching these annoying solicitations decades before we reach that magic 50th birthday.
Gotta tell you, watching Fred and Barney light up in the backyard was a shock. Shoot, even Wilma smoked.
“Be careful about rentals,” he’d warn. “It’s hard as heck to evict anyone.”
“Daddy’s on his way to the hospital,” came the quavering voice of my mother. “He had a heart attack.”
Billy Graham told my Aunt Agnes that God loved her and that someday she’d go to heaven where she’d be like everyone else.