Overheard while waiting in SWA terminal. Pre-teen daughter wants a Starbucks. Mother: “Here you go (hands over credit card) and get me a Tazo tea mocha with soy milk and a shot of vanilla” Pre-teen: “… blink – blink …” Daughter stares at mother as though a foreign language was used, eyes slowly glassing over. Mother” “Here, I’ll text it to you, now get going.” Where did we go wrong?

We were driving back from a delicious dinner from Emma’s (like I really need to state that the dinner was indeed delicious; does Emma’s serve anything other?). We were in Jim and Jolene’s suburban on Mission Gorge when our homeward progress was thwarted by a red traffic light. Arg. As we patiently waited (some of us more patient than others), a beat-up, mid 90’s white four-door Nissan Sentra pulled up next to us. Now… maybe I am slightly more attune to atrocities such as is to be described below now that I am personally responsible for a little life of my own (who I might add is the cutest/smartest/most talented…

I am checking out of the hotel on the way back to the plane. I had just eaten lunch and wanted to brush my teeth, but my toothbrush was already packed away. Fortunately, the fine Hilton establishment at which I was staying had provided several bathroom amenities: shampoo, conditioner, soap and mouthwash. Perfect! I grab the light blue bottle, flip the top open and down the hatch. Funny thing, it actually crossed my mind (in the half second delay between the bath gel departing the bottle and arriving at my tongue) that something was off; did they add a protective seal to the mouthwash bottles? I had often thought that…