Sometimes I really wish I had a time machine. If I had one, I would crank that dial back to a whole different time in my life. Like the one where I had toned thighs and could remember what I was planning on getting out of the refrigerator when I opened its door. Yeah, one of those times. I realize that some folks would pick a time with dinosaurs or some major historical event, but I’d be real happy just to see a glimpse of myself before I started falling apart with such abandon.
Okay, so anyone who parents boys knows that boys, in ways unlike girls, come equipped with their own ways of entertaining themselves. You know, like taking apart the toaster oven, or shaving the dog bald, or playing with one’s genitals.