Ah, high school football season. There’s something about the crispness of the air, the sound of marching bands, the sight of a team kneeling around a coach, which makes a parent want to be a part of it all. This urge to volunteer may stem from sincere altruism, but one must beware that helping can…
Commentary
The Family Meeting
“C’mon guys!” I bellowed from the kitchen, “You’re late!” One by one, they appeared at our table, each carrying a heavy attitude. My husband had always thought my family meetings were pure nonsense. All this nicey-nicey talking was a complete waste of his Sunday leisure time. When he grew up, you did what your parents…
A not-so-open letter to Starbucks
Dear Starbucks, I have a confession to make. As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I’m only interested in you for one thing. No it’s not your iced caramel macchiato. It’s not your over-enthusiastic androgynous employees with bolts in their faces. It’s not your cooler-than-thou ambiance, replete with black and white photography and the…
The Skin and Bones of Contention
At some point or another in a marriage, a wife faces a delicate dilemma: How to incorporate her husband’s deer head, bowling trophy, concert poster, stereo speakers, bar lamp or autographed sporting equipment into the home d├®cor. In nineteen years of marriage to my Navy husband, I’ve learned that solving this domestic quandary involves compromise,…
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets