Flattery Gone Wrong


My seven-year-old daughter was dressed up to go to a party. She came into the kitchen and asked how she looked.

“You take my breath away, just like your mom used to,” my husband said.

I hit him on the leg.

“That didn’t come out right,” he said.
Just finishing up my Valentine's Day column on the Art of Making Babies. It's good. If I do say so myself. My editors are going to love it. I'm sending it to our NPR station too. Just as soon as I can find the email address again.

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