As I sat down on the toilet for my daily quiet time, cellphone in one hand, iPad in another, I suddenly had a strange sensation. Like that sleepover prank when someone sticks your finger in warm water. But it wasn’t my finger and it definitely wasn’t warm. I jumped quickly to me feet, as a …

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(as appearing on The Huffington Post site: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/57dca07ae4b0d5920b5b2bb4?timestamp=1474078095514) “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you!” “Thanks Mom.” “I can’t believe my boy is 55 years old.” “Neither can I. I still think I’m 25. How are things? Still raining in Florida?” “Stopped raining yesterday. Played canasta last night. I couldn’t be stopped. Won $7.00.” …

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“How was the fundraiser last night? A lot of people?” “The usual suspects. You know, the elementary school schmooze at warp speed.” “Get anything good at the silent auction? Last year, I bought a bunch of gift certificates.” “I got two tickets to a concert. My buddy Jeff yelled at me for underbidding and told …

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“You look exhausted. Everything okay?” “All good. Was up late last night. Didn’t get enough sleep.” “Lucky you. We were both out cold by 10.” “Not that. The game ended and I was about to turn off the TV when… you know… I flipped around, and it was on. Once it’s on, I have to …

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I stood at the finish line, waiting for my daughter to come flying through, covered in sweat and a dusty rainbow of colors. She was running a 5K in support of pediatric cancer, joyously pelted by volunteers with washable pastel paint. As I watched the various runners stumble home with victorious chants cascading through the …

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A voice whispered in my ear at the Starbucks’ counter. “Wait until next week. You’ll be amazed how many houses go on the market.” “What are you talking about?” I was confused yet intrigued. “Last kid off to college. It’s either sell or split up, divorce or divest. Time to pack it up.” This observation …

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While conducting one of my random Google searches, I realized George Clooney, that paradigm of all things good and good looking, is one month older than I. Yet, his fiancé is 15 years younger than my wife. Is this the new math for men over 50? I mean, George and I were both born when …

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Lost in Suburbia

based on the syndicated humor column by Tracy Beckerman

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Middle aged, Uncool and Not Bringing Sexy Back