If you’ve ever dropped a giant kid off at the pool, then today’s post is for you. Yes, you’ve guessed it. The topic is: shitting and… not shitting. I’m over at In the Powder Room, today with a short (and practical) humour piece. Go on, give it a read: Dried Apricots Saved My Ass. My friend Joan and I are on an ass-saving mission. Help us get the word out!
My husband says I’ve still “got it” and he laughs at my jokes, or perhaps he’s laughing at me. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. There’s laughter happening here and that can only be a good thing, right?
We also annoy each other. Such is life when a man and a woman decide to shack up and procreate. In fact, I think it’s part of our “spark.”
Our marriage is hitting the 10 year mark, this June. We’ve survived (and been blessed) with the addition of 3 little people into our lives. And we continue to co-exist, in general harmony, with these 3 little people. One is even a tween. Just let that sink in for a minute… Continue reading
So, the new 50 Shades of Grey movie is set to release next month. Just in time for Valentine’s Day. Will I watch it? Likely. Did I like the books? No.
It’s been over two years since an army of exhausted women with kids from around the globe mustered up some energy and went buck wild for the EL James’ Trilogy. I’m sure husbands everywhere are looking forward to another surge of action when the film hits cinemas, although ideally it would just go straight to DVD…
I was one of the last to get on the 50 Shades bandwagon and was the first, and only in my crew, to hop the hell off.
The moment the young, drunken Anastasia Steele fell at the feet of the composed and sober Christian Grey, was the moment the judgmental realist in me was awakened.
She’s 21. Let her figure it out for herself, Mr. Grey. Even if that means puking in a bush…
Yet I chose to read on. Continue reading