The following is a SM post from a couple years ago, when summer travel was as simple as hopping in the family truckster and heading (for us) south, with giddy visions of several 64 oz gas station Diet Cokes and twice as many bathroom breaks dancing in our mask-free heads! Ah, summer.
Monopoly is a nice educational family game.
I think parents should be able to randomly register for gifts, say, every 5 years or so.
Took the kids inside McDonald's today. It was stressful! Back in the day, the only real risk of eating inside a McDonald's was the ever-present high likelihood of heart disease and obesity. Now I'm constantly wondering if we should have our masks on or how we're supposed to get our food or if any of … Continue reading Yet another McDonald’s post
I don't know what else to say.
I had made it a stated, sworn, cross-my-heart promise to write and post more, worry less, etc, but . . . here we are.
I never cease to be amazed by the pilot voice. It must be a critical part of their training. Either way, I’d love to acquire this skill to use around the house.
A (surprisingly food-heavy) roundup of second-rate thoughts from a first-rate week.
I once was able to just walk out of church, get into my car and go about my daily business.
My wife and I had a chance to see the movie "Yesterday," about a struggling musician who is hit by a bus and awakens to find that he's the only one who remembers the Beatles, and can therefore enlighten the world. It was really good.
". . . the quiz answers are so obvious that you’d have to be a, well, moron, to NOT find the correct option. . ."
People are upset that Amazon employees are listening in on our private conversations through our Alexa devices. I say it won’t be a problem much longer...
I don’t know what the rest of you did for Valentine’s Day, but my lovely lady and I spent an intimate evening . . .
Now that my kids have learned to play the piano, often providing the soundtrack to our lives these days, it sometimes feels like we’re living in an Old West saloon.
I understand that you're not supposed to cry over spilled milk. But what about when you trudge out to the store in the early morning subzero wind chills to buy milk, and then trudge back home with milk, and then five minutes after you bring milk into the homestead . . .