Groan. Another year whips by and here am I facing the worst, most torturous time of the year.
For, if ever there was a holiday I can’t stand and would love to see sink into oblivion, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’d be happy to skip it altogether and may even start a petition to do so.
First, its very arrival means the holiday season is coming to a close, and everyone must get back to business—whether it’s a nine to five office job, working as a (terrifying) clown in the circus, or playing a round of golf a la Tiger Woods. Continue reading →
Henry is having a midlife crisis. There’s no mistaking it.
For starters, he’s reverted to his puppy years, no doubt remembering the months he spent in a child care center where he’d see infants using pacifiers and started using them, too. Here he is again, a feeble attempt to relive his youth. Continue reading →
Oliver Twist hates taking baths, but he loves getting soaked. Let me explain.
Put him in a tub, as I do every so often, and he hates it. He gets all squirmy as he tries desperately to climb out of the tub. Trust me, I know this because I have the claw marks on my arms as proof. Continue reading →