Todd (to baby): “Your breath smells like breast!”
Baby: …
Susannah: “It smells like milk. It smells sweet! I love how it smells.”
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I was at the mall, and I had my parrot with me. The parrot wore a diaper, and I carried her snug against my upper chest and shoulder, with one hand cradling the parrot’s diapered, er, bottom.
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I got some great news recently: TWGDOYPR is the September pick for the book club at Mac’s Backs, a wonderful independent bookstore in Cleveland, Ohio. Imagine! A whole club of people reading my book. (If any of you club members are reading this, hello! Welcome! I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have…) Things like this are so crucial for little books like mine. I mean, look at the success of The Lace Reader:
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Via the internet (how else), I just dipped so far down into pools of what’s starting to feel disturbingly like my former self and my former life that, when I came up for air, it almost seemed weird that I had a child sleeping in the next room. Like: Wait. What am I now, what is this life I’m living?
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