I only buy food items in containers that are difficult to open. It's just my little way of getting back at me.

I tried to be my own best friend, but it just didn't work out. We've already made plans to go our separate ways.

Even my mother's hardwood floor squeaked of martyrdom.

I had to prepare Christmas dinner this year. I was afraid I had forgotten how to cook. A friend reminded me that it's just like riding a bike, you never forget. My biggest fear was falling in the bushes with my chestnut-apple stuffing and gravy.

You know those action movies, where someone trips a booby trap and the huge door is closing and the hero just manages to slip under before it slams shut? Imagine the relief he must feel when he realizes he made it. That's what I feel when I'm not being reminded how many shopping days I have left before Christmas.