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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
I suggested at lunchtime that we become an opera family, putting lyrics to all the mundane things we might want to express to each other, and I think this might be a good suggestion for other families as well.
Scott wasn’t abused as a child, he wasn’t born with a silver spoon, his parents weren’t alcoholic or doctors or criminal, his marks in school were normal, he was never outstanding in sports, his relationships with women were healthy and tended to end gracefully without undue distress to either party, he was a safe driver, he drank in reasonable moderation, didn’t have any food allergies and he had travelled when he was younger but then smoothly transitioned into a position of responsibility at work and providing for his healthy, well-adjusted family, so there was nothing, nothing at all, to presage what happened next.
If they’d all just listen to me, things would go so much more smoothly.
Timmy spent so long arguing that he wasn’t the one who allowed zombies into the house that in the end it didn’t much matter, because the whole family was eaten alive.
The young girl sat contentedly on the muddled brown carpet, her shoulder leaning on the big, comfortable chair, a small dog resting nearby with his furry chin on a pair of slippers, and the girl watched as the older woman concentrated, back bent and shoulders hunched, creating something out of what seemed like nothing.
The list of things I'd like to figure out is long and impossible, and many of them I will never get to. I know this. But I was able to…
there just isn’t any point to it anymore, they no more want me than i want them so why be bound with non-existent bindings, i’m simply quitting my family as of today.
“Abubakar, you stop trying to entomb your sister and get in this pyramid this instant!”
“Abubakar, if you’ve locked Okpara in the natron pit again, I will have your father feed you to the jackals when he gets home tonight.”
If my mother and I had ever been the same age at the same time, could we have been friends?
Every year Uncle Rufus seems to walk away with the “Most Back Hair” trophy at the family reunion, but that’s only because Great Aunt Esther is too sick to travel.
“You can be disappointed in me and still come to Thanksgiving dinner,” said Muriel into her mother’s answering machine,“these two things are not mutually exclusive, you know, and I do have a turkey to order.”
“I went to three different gas stations, just to make sure I was getting the freshest pies,” Henry said as he defended himself against the entire rest of the family, “and this is the thanks I get?”
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, while the prosecution has just argued a most elegant case, it has been, nonetheless, and argument filled with wild and bold assertions, attempting to have you believe that the man here on trial, the simple man whose fate rests in your hands is a violent, corporate destroying pirate and an aggressive anarchist of the worst kind, whose actions threaten to unravel the very thread of this society, but let me remind you, lest you forget, lest we all forget, that this most ordinary family man, my client Henry, walked into that radio station armed only with an old cassette tape recorder and nothing else, and further, that when the batteries went dead in this antiquated contraption of his did not, I repeat, did not cold-heartedly reload those batteries as the prosecution has suggested, but rather, in a most polite manner, quietly asked the radio station’s receptionist if she had any D-cells in her desk.
Imagine my disappointment, after arriving at my wife’s grandmother’s house, to discover that we were not there to pick up a cyborg.
Ensconced safely in his cage, Ginko the gecko watched the family for years, reporting its every move back to his true master.
I think things would have turned out a lot different if I’d been born a finger puppet.
That the tryptofan in the turkey kicks in before my brotherinlaw starts talking politics.
hijacked: when one’s inlaws come into town unannounced and require transportation for the entire weekend; moderated only slightly when they take you shopping and they foot the bill
Clearly there’s too much activity to fit into a regular 24-hour period, so this particular family will now diversify into two universes.
A blood soaked abattoir filled with zombie strippers battling gay vampires for the rights to the peloti rules as part of their bioterrorist plan to unleash a highly virulent form of whooping cough on the world.
Was a good man with a heart fit for ten men and a sense of humour that will outlast his beautiful, long life.
The busiest, tiniest kitchens are sometimes the heart of entire families.
Counting silently, Harry eyed the tangle of limbs fighting and squirming madly on the floor, the crazy crazy glint in his Uncle Ephraim’s eye, Aunt Effy and Grandma Stephens placing bets on the sidelines, skimmed over his cheerleading Uncle Daffyd in his infamous purple happy pants …five, four, three, two, one oh yes, here comes the hysterical relief , he sagged against the door as he giggled (just a bit) .
He stared at the stacks of century old books, most of which he’d read himself as a young man when he’d first grown hungry for words, and was more than a little startled when the happiness he felt for his mom’s books finding their way safely into his care had turned somehow into an intense sadness that left him pondering the invisible, delicate connections he shared with others.
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