If I had it to do over, I’d be a taxidermist.
My father was my best man. Still is.
I possess an extraordinary knowledge of “toe thumbs,” which one of my children possesses.
I smell practically everything, from the pages of a new book to tonsil stones.
I have broken a couple of hearts, never a bone.
My idea of living dangerously is mixing darks and lights in the wash.
I puked before every high school basketball game, my daughter before every high school vocal contest.
I own a company record of which I am not proud — slammed phone receivers.
Lawn jockeys terrify me.
Nothing is more unattractive than negativity.