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Showing posts from October, 2010

Strike My Fancy

A cozy moment between my four year old daughter and my ex-drag queen husband.
MAXIE: Daddy, do boys wear makeup?
MICHAEL: Yes, some boys do.
MAXIE: I bet that makes them feel fancy.
MICHAEL: I bet it does.
MAXIE: Daddy, I like fancy boys.
MICHAEL: So do I, sweetheart. So do I.

Aloha Passion

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Now that I'm back in the throes of monitoring school homework, packing lunch boxes and driving to and from numerous extracurricular activities, it's hard to believe that not six weeks ago I was sipping mai tais poolside on the beautiful island of Maui.
You know how folks develop that special place they go to unwind? Well, Hawaii is that place for me. The second the plane's wheels scrape rubber on the tarmac I feel transformed. I've come home. You see, I was born in Honolulu, just like Barack Obama and Bette Midler. (And like Barack Obama and Bette Midler, I too can show you a valid birth certificate.)
And even though I only lived there the first nine months of my life, the islands feel familiar. The fragrant Hawaiian breeze is mother's milk, the loamy earth and brilliant colors my pablum.

That doesn't mean our special getaway wasn't without incident. I somehow managed to get both sinus and ear infections, Maxie got a bladder infection, Sebastian, five stitche…

It's a Pickle

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My mother sent Michael a yodelling pickle. That's right, a yodelling pickle...

What is a yodelling pickle, you ask? Quite simply, a plastic pickle that stands on end, and when you push its button, it yodels. No cutesy cartoon face. No accompanying movement. Just a collection of high-pitched alpine trills from a stiff faux-vegetable. Yodel-Ay-Eee-Ooo.
And unlike the Santa who gyrates to Jingle Bell Rock, this mass-produced gewgaw is perfect for absolutely NO occasion.
What's peculiar, besides the gift itself, is the sender. My mother is not one for spontaneity, nor is she particularly fond of gag gifts. Sal is a logically-minded, no nonsense kinda gal, and a yodelling pickle would be the last thing I'd expect her to send my husband, via UPS. Especially when it's my birthday next week!! What's in store for me? A rapping kiwi?
The other, perhaps noticeably, odd thing...odd and uncomfortable...is that the damn thing looks like a green dildo. Now, I don't get into Mich…