Creative Reproduction

"We turn used clothing into new kids through education."

 

I drive by one of these drop-off bins every day.  And every day, that slogan causes me to reach into the innards of my brain and ask, “What the hell are they trying to say?”  

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Life is Good: A Father’s Day Post

Every holiday, every year, when my sister and I ask our dad what we can get for him, his answer is always the same:  a “Life is Good” t-shirt.

He’s a “Life is Good” kinda guy.  An amiable, trusting-of-strangers kinda guy.  A laughs-at-his-own jokes kinda guy.

This father’s day, I’d like to thank my dad for the gajillion things he has done to make my life so good.  But I’m a Don’t-Wanna-Lose-My-Readers kinda blogger, so I’ll tie this into a bigger message.

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Hakuna Matata: Aint No Passing Craze

The Moose and the Goose. Footloose.

 

Here’s a question that has been on everybody’s mind lately:  Are we human, or are we dancers?          

To settle the debate once and for all, I will definitively answer the question with a question.  Continue reading

Don’t Be a Pill

Sayonara, sweater pills.

 

Alright; that’s it.  If there is any hope of me posting regularly, I am going to have to start interjecting some short posts. 

Here’s an equation that psyched me up yesterday:  Old Pilly Sweater + Baby Comb = New Sweater. 

While “Fun” Shui’ing (“Fun” Shui is the ancient chinese art of having a good time getting rid of crap you don’t need), I came across a great sweater, covered in pills. 

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Four Pieces of Unsolicited Advice for New Dads. (Happy Birthmonth, Moose!)

 

Three hours before my husband proposed, he had me in tears.  

Sad tears.  Not happy tears. 

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Shut Up and Work Out Already.

I used to think that Trainer Bob, of The Biggest Loser, was a little…edge-less.  A little too nice. 

That was until the Most Glorious Moment of Reality Television Ever, when he flipped the switch and handed Joelle her own bum for breakfast. 

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Do Not Pass “Go.” Do Not Collect Another Stroller.

             

Stroller shoppers:  I can save you a lot of time, if you’ll let me.                

[Brief word of caution:  if you are not in the market for a stroller, this post may induce boredom tears.  Or stroller-envy tears.  Or both.  Allow me to distract you with a post that applies to stroller-users and non-stroller-users alike.  Maybe this one?  Or this one?]                 

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