My Clark Kent glasses.
They're big and nerdy and - duh! - Superman wore them when he just wanted to relax and be someone he was not. But my eyes are fine; I don't need glasses to see.
My 8 year old is putting a lot of things together on her own.
"Mom, is britches a bad word?"
"No. It's just a slightly old fashioned word for pants."
"Then why does it sound like a bad word? It sounds a lot like... bitch."
[Thank you, big brothers.]
I pulled a muscle during an exercise class and walked out.
Ok, this one only makes me feel stupid stupid stupid. And weak. And owie. And more stupid.
I still secretly think it is probably a hernia. But that's impossible, because a hernia is an old man injury and - for once - I was not in the 65 and better class.
I went to type up my notes for something I'm trying to learn and - loandbehold! - they were already typed. And saved. From several months ago.
Obviously, I've mastered this material so well I've forgotten it already.
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