As soon as this picture popped up on the computer screen, Eva pointed and exclaimed, “Look! A pirate!” You may be tempted to dismiss it as a child’s sweet naivety, but not so fast! Give him a hook and a patch, put a parrot on his shoulder, and I think she may be onto something.
She put on those wings and couldn’t fly. She waved her wand, and nothing happened. This Halloween, every doorstep in the neighborhood will be graced by one pissed off Tinkerbell.
Happily, her spirits were lifted when she discovered she could balance a wine glass on her fingertip.
Wine makes everything better. Even for fairies who can’t fly.
With our twenty-year reunion coming up this weekend, I’ve been thinking back about high school more than usual. Along with those memories came a familiar feeling I haven’t experienced in years—raw, painful, deep beneath the surface. That’s right—I am getting a zit. Not just any zit. It is right smack on the tip of my nose, as though it’s been lying in wait since Clinton was president for the most opportune moment to rear its ugly white head.
Some of you may think you’re bringing back the ‘80s with your leather fringe and Aquanet. As for me, I do nothing half ass.
