I bent over in the park the other day while wearing dungarees. The straps had been sliding off my shoulders so I had shortened them earlier in the day. I imagine the experience when I bent to rescue Blaze is akin to how cheddar feels when faced with the cheese...
I cried when I listened to Michelle Obama speak last week, and I know I wasn’t alone. With her careful thought, her clear intelligence, her black-ness and her female-ness, this ordinary, extra-ordinary woman appeared in binary opposition to the man she so resolutely...
I’m having to come to terms with being “kept” like a pet cat. I’m painfully aware that the money I’m spending is not “mine” in the way I always planned. And if one more person calls me a yummy-mummy, I think I might eat...
“My offspring will not even know who Peppa Pig is,” I loftily proclaimed pre-children, as I sneered in superiority at the parents who bought the DVDs, t-shirt, stickers, cup, bowl, bag, lunchbox, pencil case and pyjamas. “What is this two-dimensional animated swine?”...
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