Our kitchen table just took another hit last week. The big oblong shape formed when all three leaves are inserted in the tiger oak table lost a leaf last year when our first kid hit the college road. This September, I took two leaves out. Now, the table that originally served as the meal meeting place in my Great Grandmother Oates’ house, and then sat in my Grandma Boitano’s kitchen for decades, is a circle. A table for four. It feels less lonesome without those empty chairs, and as one of the … [Read More...]
Last year, we launched the first of our four kids—my eldest biological child, which I wrote about here, here and here. Our loving, lovable young man was happy to come home this summer and burrow back into his fetid nest for a few months. It literally took 45 seconds for the reasonably clean-smelling and orderly room, which functioned perfectly as a guest room during the last year, to bounce right back to its former condition, in both humidity and odor: something between a locker room for Vikings … [Read More...]
Ever had a conversation, maybe at a party, in a grocery store, or hanging out on the pole, that slowly transitions from mildly pleasant, to boring, to punishing? By punishing, I mean, physically uncomfortable. By physically uncomfortable, I mean, like having restless leg syndrome while being skinned alive.
Well, I figured something out recently, and it is this: The conversations I’ve just described really are torture, as defined by that dusty relic, the dictionary: “to inflict severe pain on.” … [Read More...]