Once a month, my mother would choose a single-parenting experience she thought to be humorous or poignant and would write it down for the whole world to read (or at least the subscribers of North Texas). My mother didn’t just archive my brother’s and my childhood, she created public records of all our most embarrassing moments.
I grew up with a brother who, since age four, abstained from eating animals and shouted things like “Meat is murder!” when he saw a plate of chicken nuggets. To this day, when I sit on a leather couch, I hear his voice, whispering, “Is that carcass comfortable?” This is not to say that I don’t enjoy eating meat, or indulge in leather accessories, but I feel a certain guilt in doing so.
Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò pushes Kim Davis through a set of oak double doors. She teeters on her kitten heels, stumbling into a dark, velvety interior. She blinks, swirls of smoke stinging her eyes and clouding her vision, and sneezes. … Read More