If you pushed her far enough there was a chance you might catch a flying sandal to the chin. And her aim was lethal. She was like the Dennis Eckersley of moms.
I’ve been to a few shows, but it always feels like I’m a curator at the dinosaur exhibit. So many dusty, old bones lying around. So many hip replacements squeaking and popping to Frankie Valli’s greatest hits. It gives me a creepy feeling.