My idea of 'roughing it' is when you have to have an extension for your electric blanket.

It's [motherhood] the biggest on-the-job- training program in existence today.

My type of humor is almost pure identification. A housewife reads my column and says, 'But that's happened to ME! I know just what she's talking about!

I am always behind the shopper at the grocery store who has stitched her coupons in the lining of her coat and wants to talk about a 'strong' chicken she bought two weeks ago. The register tape also runs out just before her sub-total. In the public restroom, I always stand behind the teen-ager who is changing into her band uniform for a parade and doesn't emerge until she has combed the tassels on her boots, shaved her legs, and recovered her contact lens from the commode.

It seemed rather incongruous that in a society of super sophisticated communication, we often suffer from a shortage of listeners.

The bad times I can handle. It's the good times that drive me crazy. When is the other shoe going going to drop?

Families aren't easy to join. They're like an exclusive country club where membership makes impossible demands and the dues for an outsider are exorbitant.