I ran into a friend at the dog park this morning and she asked me if I was “OK”. “When I saw you last week, you looked like you were on the verge of tears.” What was going on that day? Oh … Read full article
I was sitting in my 2007 Toyota Highlander, where my recently skunked labradors hang out, in the parking lot of a bowling alley in a run down strip mall, when my cell phone buzzed.
“Hi, Mom! You’ll never guess where I am.”
It was my son Andy, who is getting his doctorate–in chemical biology– at Harvard. He was calling me from Phelps Gate at Yale, having just arrived for his 5 year college reunion.
“Andy, that is so awesome. Who have you seen? What is the schedule?”
What I miss most about my mom
I was 14-years old and watching TV on a sunny Saturday afternoon while popping peanut M&M’s with a can of Tab. I heard the vacuum go on—it was headed my way.
Here comes mom.
She had a habit of turning on the vacuum when my brother, sister or I were sitting around when we could be doing something else.
Mom reached the TV room, switched off the vacuum and sighed just as I stuffed the empty yellow wrapper in my pocket. “So,” she said, “is this what you’re planning to do all day, just sit around? What are your friends doing today?”
A bump in the road–part one
Author’s note and disclaimer: This post discusses medical stuff, but I am using (mostly) lay terms to describe the experience.
When my son John, who is 22, came back from a summer job in New Hampshire, I noticed a mole on his face that looked suspicious. It was on his right cheek, the same place where he’d had a mole removed three years before.
“You should get that checked,” I said.
“No, it’s fine, I just cut it shaving.” he replied.
I have a lot of moles (sorry for the visual), fair hair and skin, and my three son have inherited these traits as well, so we are (fairly) vigilant about sunscreen, and monitoring the moles.