George Bernard Shaw pointed out that “the single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”

“Are there any cute boys in your class?” I asked my daughter, Abby.
“They’re freaks, mom.”
“Are there any cute freaks?”
“They brought a toaster to homeroom. There’s a piece of burnt toast still in there. I can smell it—and a fly, I can hear it buzzing.”

Translation: I’ll tell my cousin I like boys, but there’s no way I’ll admit it to my mom.

I kissed my son Chase’s head on his way to school.
“Don’t kiss my hair, mom. It’s got China water on it. You could die.”

Translation: Three weeks ago I would have walked the world with my hair pointing to the North Star, but I’ve suddenly realized that girls are looking. Don’t mess up my do.

Then, of course, there’s Porter who has no filter.
“Mom, I can smell your perfume.”
“Well, thank—“
“And by that I mean really stinky perfume.” Read More