Having a delivery covered by Medicare just isn't going to fly. It's too risky for a woman to put a baby down and not remember where she left it.

In general my children refuse to eat anything that hasn't danced in television.

For some unexplained reason, it's always the other end of the table that's wild and raucous, with screaming laughter and a fella who plays 'Holiday for Strings' on water glasses.

The grass is always greener over the septic tank.

There is so much to teach, and the time goes so fast.

No baby shall at any time be quartered in a house where there are no soft laps, no laughter, or no love.

I have a hat. It is graceful and feminine and give me a certain dignity, as if I were attending a state funeral or something. Someday I may get up enough courage to wear it, instead of carrying it.