I don't know about your husband but in the rare event that my hubby cooks, everything is cooked on high! He seems to be unaware that any other settings exist on our stove.  Although, I have informed him of the existence of both medium and low settings, he continues to cook on high. This has lead to a few pans being destroyed and/or toxic fumes from the Teflon coating being released.  No need to mention the food burnt on the outside and raw inside...I have Pizza Hut's phone number memorized...just in case.  

Sometimes our sweet baby girls grow up into scary young women!   I once laughingly said that around the age of 9-10, both of my girls, went through a PPMS stage, or a Practicing PMS stage. Both have now advanced to what I unsmilingly refer to as PRe-PMS...also known around here as  Psychotic-Reactions-PMS.  Having never suffered from any form of PMS, it has certainly been a learning experience.  Hopefully, what I have learned will help others whose daughters grow up to be scary too.   1) Do NOT look at them.  

Remodeling is a never ending series of starts and stops around here.  One cabinet in the kitchen, which was "finished" 5 years ago, still needs polyurethane.  The deck, finished 2 years ago, is still missing side rails.  The den is still without baseboards and, well, there's more but I'll stop there.  Seems we start out with some money, big plans and much energy. All of which quickly wanes.

Did I tell you that my husband is mean to me?   One Thursday morning, I was getting a cup of coffee when for some reason that darned "HOT NOW" doughnut sign at Krispy Kreme flashed into my mind in all of its red neon glory.   I quickly went into the den and related this to my husband.   "Don't you think it's a revelation or something?" I asked.   "No." he said.  

I last purchased a new bathing suit a few years back. It was around the time that "distressed" clothes were quite popular.  I think I may have inadvertently purchased a distressed bathing suit because whenever I put it on I hear crying!  I find this quite annoying and tell myself to quit whining but I don't listen.  A friend suggested that skinny-dipping would put an end to the annoying whining.... Thus here is my Doctor Seuss inspired reply to my friend: No skinny-dipping.  Not for me. 55 is frightening, you see. Not in a lake, near wooded park.