I was too old for a paper route, too young for Social Security and too tired for an affair.

Housework is a treadmill from futility to oblivion with stop-offs at tedium and counter productivity.

I have just come up with a wonderful solution to end all wars. Let me give directions on how to get there.

It is not until you become a mother that your judgment slowly turns to compassion and understanding.

My sister and I never engaged in sibling rivalry. Our parents weren't that crazy about either one of us.

I never go to a college reunion that I don't come away feeling sorry for all those paunchy, balding jocks trying to hang onto youth. I feel sorry for the men, too.

I have finally mastered what to do with the second tennis ball. Having small hands, I was becoming terribly self-conscious about keeping it in a can in the car while I served the first one. I noted some women tucked the second ball just inside the elastic leg of their tennis panties. I tried, but found the space already occupied by a leg. Now, I simply drop the second ball down my cleavage, giving me a chest that often stuns my opponent throughout an entire set.