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This bed I’ve made

She curls into a hot parenthesis against me, tiny hands and feet twitching in ballet dreams. I gather the bedclothes over a wisp of porcelain shoulder: flanneled sheets, down comforter with a sueded duvet; February, and the weight of bedding has not been altered since the winter prior. “Mama’s bed,” she’d whispered before squirreling in,…

White-trash hybrid

Across the street from Eliot’s preschool is an auto repair shop, and every day I see this exceptional piece of American engineering parked out front: Yeah, I know: BITCHIN’!! But why do I really care? Because if you look closely, you’ll realize it’s an El Camino. . . with the front end of a Camaro….

On being an anatomical freak

To the naked eye, I look fairly pulled together. Some have even said “attractive,” though those people have never seen me when I realize TiVo’s eaten an episode of “Bridezillas.” And the liquor store is closed. On the INSIDE, however, there’s a whole lotta weird shit going on, courtesy of my esteemed forebears, whom I’m…