Initially, Amanda’s due date was July 7th (7/7) which ironically is her mom’s favorite number (7). Every day after the due date is filled with anticipation because we could be off to the hospital at any moment.
Initially, Amanda’s due date was July 7th (7/7) which ironically is her mom’s favorite number (7). Every day after the due date is filled with anticipation because we could be off to the hospital at any moment.
We used to live in simpler times when you could waltz into a diner, drop a quarter on the counter, and say...
“Coffee, please.”
I avoid going to my doctor, or any doctor for that matter, because how dare they try to keep me alive.
For those of us who grew up in the sixties and seventies, and from an Italian household, our parents thought it was their duty to send us all to Catholic school to be taught by the nuns.
Gee, thanks.
We landed in Dallas almost an hour late, but still needed to make our connecting flight to Oklahoma City.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I do not like to travel. Give me a week at the Jersey Shore, and I’m in. Anything that involves long car rides or, God forbid, putting me on an airplane, no thank you.
I am one of those people who believes the universe will send you a sign when you need it. With that said, I’m a little concerned by the signs the universe delivered to me recently.
One of the best man’s responsibility is to make a toast to congratulate, send blessings and good luck, to the new young couple.
How hard can it be?
Well, we’re about to find out….
Learned a lesson a few weeks back, and that lesson was, ‘What I hear isn’t necessarily what you said.’
Why do I need that lesson?
Read on…
In the future, when bad weather is forecast, and you are bombarded with news flashes to ‘stay off the road’ or ‘emergency vehicles only’, but you think, ‘it’s not too bad, I can go out’ do me a favor: don’t.
During this holiday season, you think people who work in retail stores would be sure the customer was satisfied with their purchases, in hope for a return visit.
You may think that, but you’d be wrong.
Re-Post from an earlier blog:
When I first was separated from my ex-wife, Arlene, my three kids were all under 10 years old. When Christmas came around that year I knew it was going to be hard — maybe not so much for the kids, but for me (selfish).
Everything from my ex-wife, messy house, and a certain German dictator were discussed