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The Money Store

Posted on May 21, 2008

Briar was sitting in the back of the car as she explained with great solemnity to Avery – “We cannot have the ice cream. We cannot have it because Mom has no money and Daddy has to be at his office making money. Only after we go to the money store can we be getting the ice cream. Ok? Alright? The money store then ice cream, got it?” It got me thinking, I have some errands that need running. Visit the Sleep Store. Pop into the Self-grooming Supermarket. Hit the Extra-hours-in-the-day Superstore. Swing through the Second Shower Shop. Go to the Patience Mart. Then again, maybe I’ll just hit the Money Store and pay someone else to do it all.

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What Not to Do

Posted on May 20, 2008

You know I’d love the title to be What Not to Wear and have this be a post about how Stacey and Clinton are poised to thrust $5,000 at me for new clothes which will define the narrowest part of my waist, hoist up the girls and show the world how sassy and hawt my backside is, while Nick Arrojo and Carmindy wait in the wings to tell me how lush my tresses are and how gorgeous my hazely-green eyes are, alas, it’s not that. I fear my current propensity for whipping out my impossible-to-contain boobs makes the secret footage not-so-secret and way too hard to keep the cameras dry. Nope, this post is about what not to do in the weeks following the…

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One more minute

Posted on May 18, 2008

One more minute Oh, it was simply excruciating, and no, this isn’t in reference to the girls asking for one more minute. The girls are too wise for that, Avery discovered some months ago that the secret is to ask for “tain mo’ minutes,” because that way, when mom says, “No, baby, I’m sorry. It’s time for bed,” you can say, “Nine minutes?” I have melted every time she has done it and now Briar has caught on to the tactic. I was on the couch with Fin in the middle of the day. She was burrowed in my hoody, the skin of our bellies hot against each other, her silky head pressing irresistibly upon my mouth, napping. Really napping. I don’t nap. Ever.…

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