I've always been intrigued with the variety of answers this generation will give their children who ask, "Where did I come from, Mommy?" They will range from "Number 176 vial in Buffalo, New York," to "You were defrosted."

When it comes to cooking, five years ago I felt guilty "just adding water." Now I want to bang the tube against the countertop and have a five-course meal pop out. If it comes with plastic silverware and a plate that self-destructs, all the better.

To my way of thinking, the American family started to decline when parents began to communicate with their children.

What makes people laugh? . . . It's a happy marriage between a person who needs to laugh and someone who's got one to give.

Pregnancy is the only time in a woman's life she can help God work a miracle.

When humor goes, there goes civilization.

Housework, if you do it right, will kill you.