Flying By the Seat of My Pants
The summer I was fourteen, I crossed into Central America using a fake ID. It wasn’t the birth date on the ID that was fake (in Mexico, if somebody wanted to get their lips on a non-virgin pina colada, they
And Bichon Makes Three!
The night Tiffany was delivered, my husband and I crouched over her bed, lovingly watching as she nestled down in the covers and made soft whining sounds.“Despite having fangs and no opposable thumbs, isn’t she just perfect?” I breathed. My
Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong
It almost felt like we were Peeping Toms as my husband and I clustered around the computer screen, avidly watching the most intimate details of this young family’s life for the twentieth time in less than ten days. We laughed
Pray It Forward
I’d passed her before. In the fiercest of elements, I had driven right passed the elderly woman carrying a sack of groceries bigger than she was. I’d always wanted to stop, but somehow an excuse always presented itself: the Jeep