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Gossip: Loose Lipps Sink Ships
“Some say our national pastime is baseball. Not me. It’s gossip.” ~ Erma Bombeck When he welcomed us into his rad classroom, we eighth graders knew we finally made it to the top. To be in Mr. Lipps’ class meant we got the cool English teacher. Of all my junior high classes, this particular one simultaneously thrilled and unnerved me. The middle-aged, borderline hippie spoke with authority and sauntered between our desks with an abundance of confidence. His “Loose Lipps Sink Ships” poster spanned the width of one wall and sat higher than our heads when we stood. It struck me as deep… forward-thinking… high school-ish. And I had no idea…
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I crafted a plan. I felt prepared. I started with the basics when he started walking and talking. My voice sounded cheery and I easily herded the little man into my camp. “Can you please put Finding Nemo back in the movie cupboard?” “Where does your stuffed orca go? No… not there, silly.” “You want to clean the kitchen with mommy? Sure!” Chore time with one toddler felt easy because he actually wanted to help. And the jobs were like him—short and sweet. Then we moved to Baja, birthed another baby and adjusted to living in the land of dust and mud. The harder chores required more direction, but my…
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Last Christmas in Baja? Wrestling with the Unknown and Another Big Move
The C9 bulbs sit snug and proud, wrapped around the palm. It’s fat, freshly trimmed, and still full of green. Through the fall and into winter, palms don’t change. “It looks like a pineapple,” my husband says. “A glowing one.” He’s right; our own tropical Christmas. But whose kids are those? The holiday is celebrated here, yes, but you have to drive to the cities to see red and green explosions alongside gifts in excess. A peek into our low-income town will show you single strands of dim lights, old-school decor and a few lawn ornaments you might consider tacky. Big deal. We who possess bright white…
