So, Sue E, you have won the white iPad 2. I hope you use it happily and in good health.
I will continue to live my dark, dark sad life sans iPad (wait, you thought I got one too, didn’t you? well, I didn’t).
So look for me at the local Apple store sobbing inconsolably over the yummy products I can’t afford, just like all you lovely, lovely people that entered the contest and didn’t win. Join me, will you?
There’s a picture of Abe Lincoln here because this post made me think about how we had to learn and recite the Gettysburg Address in 8th grade which, when you think about what is happening vocally with boys around that age, is really kind of a dick move.
About a year ago, some friends of ours told us that their two-year-old daughter had asked them what her private parts were called. Having particular distaste – as my husband and I do – for all cutesy “hoo-ha” or “pee-pee” talk, our friends simply explained that it was her vagina, and that was that. When my mother-in-law got wind of this, she was scandalized. “I’d better not hear my granddaughter say ‘vagina,’” she said. “Why?” we asked. “She’s a little girl,” my mother-in-law scolded, “Not a doctor!”
Baby Girl was still on the drying rack when my doctor said, “Let’s do this again sometime.” If I had a nickel for every time someone said that only minutes after sewing parts of me back together…
