“Women are never what they seem to be. There is the woman you see and there is the woman who is hidden. Buy the gift for the woman who is hidden.”

If you can’t make it better, you can laugh at it.

Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child. Then the mother is born.

Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.

Housework is a treadmill from futility to oblivion with stop-offs at tedium and counter productivity.

Grandparenthood is one of life’s rewards for surviving your own children.

I’ve exercised with women so thin that buzzards followed them to their cars.

Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

I am not a glutton – I am an explorer of food.

I haven’t trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I’ve never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.

The grass is always greener over the septic tank.

People usually survive their illnesses, but the paper work eventually does them in. Filing a claim for insurance is terminal.

Kids need love the most when they’re acting most unlovable.

Like religion, politics, and family planning, cereal is not a topic to be brought up in public. It’s too controversial.

Once you see the drivers in Indonesia you understand why religion plays such a part in their lives.

If I had my life to live over, instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished ever moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.