posted in: family, kids, school, updates | 2

Since I last posted here, my daughter has passed her driver’s license test and is currently out and about, terrorizing citizens in her Toyota.

My son, on the other hand, made it into the top 20 of his school and will be in a school-wide Spelling Bee tonight.

He doesn’t want to go.

I’m not sure WHY he doesn’t want to go, other than maybe whenever he’s on stage or up in front of an audience, I’m usually sitting in the front row staring at him with huge eyes and doing this thing with my top lip where I stick it to my gums and only my top teeth poke out.

He never looks in my general direction, anymore.

Suffice it to say, he’s been telling me that he’s going to purposely throw the competition so he can just go sit down and not have any pressure. I fully back this decision because I once was in a state-wide Spelling Bee final and shit the bed on the word “tragedy.” The irony of this has not escaped me. I was so excited to be given such an easy word that I spelled it T-R-A-D-E-G-Y which sounds like how someone with a speech impediment would say ‘strategy.’

So stupid.

I kick myself for that to this very day. I mean, who knows where I’d be right now had I spelled “tragedy” correctly. Playboy Mansion? Owner of several private islands? Sitting her typing in this blog?

Probably the latter.

So I give my full blessing for my son to crash his plane tonight.

Extra bonus points to him if he spells t-r-a-d-e-g-y no matter what word he gets.



My first ARC copies of “The Vasectomy Diaries” have gone out and are currently in the hands of a bunch of you people who signed up for the tour.

I’m hoping for a February 7th release date, but I’ll keep you all posted!

2 Responses

  1. Peggy Saviola (Hoffman)

    OMG! My oldest sister and I used to do the same thing with our upper lip. We would make sure our gums and inner lip were really dry so only our teeth would show. Then we would sit in the front row while our little sisters had a play or chorus. We were asked not to come back because we were disruptive. We weren’t the ones laughing. Some people.


    My dad would stick his finger through his zipper and wiggle it around like his penis was sticking out.

    The school banned him from most events.