mom humor

Upon glancing at my still-unsheathed breast I saw that it too, was covered in baby Grey Poupon. Until this point, the closest I'd ever come to a Cleveland Steamer was seeing reports of hot, humid Ohio temperatures on TV. Yet there I stood. It. Was. Too. Much
Carol had left a cheerful gift bag on the sofa next to Peg. It proved too great a temptation. In the four or five minutes
These tips and tricks seem to be working swimmingly for my daughter, so without a shadow of a doubt, they'll work for you, too!
As my Mom's Alzheimer's advanced, my personal goals grew simpler. I was determined to hang on to at least a shred of my sense of humor. This proved challenging when my mother Peg refused to take her meds or when I stayed awake through the night to prevent her from wandering in a nearby park.
That's right, you heard me. Instead of Thanksgiving, I'm calling it Momsgiving because, well, I don't see anybody else in this damn kitchen. Anyway, think about it: Mom's giving you turkey. Mom's giving you stuffing. Mom's giving you yams, potatoes and pie.