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Making coffee has become the great compromise of the decade. It's the only thing "real" men do that doesn't seem to threaten their masculinity. To women, it's on the same domestic entry level as putting the spring back into the toilet-tissue holder or taking a chicken out of the freezer to thaw.
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To say, "Well, I write when I really get into it" is a bunch of bull. Put the paper in the typewriter, stare at it a long time, get snowblindness if you have to, but write something.
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When they told me I needed a mastectomy, I thought of the thousands of luncheons and dinners I had attended where they slapped a name tag on my left bosom. I always smiled and said, 'Now, what shall we name the other one?' That would no longer be a problem.
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I don't know why no one ever thought to paste a label on the toilet-tissue spindle giving 1-2-3 directions for replacing the tissue on it. Then everyone in the house would know what Mama knows.
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You hear a lot of dialogue on the death of the American family. Families aren't dying. They're merging into big conglomerates.
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I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.
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Remember, you can lead a fifty-seven-year-old body to motherhood, but you can't make it stay awake.
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My son did not show signs of a money deficiency until he opened his small fist in the nursery and found it was empty.
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Never lend your car to anyone to whom you have given birth.
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I worry about scientists discovering that lettuce has been fattening all along.
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What makes people laugh? . . . It's a happy marriage between a person who needs to laugh and someone who's got one to give.
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Most children's first words are 'Mama' or 'Daddy.' Mine were, 'Do I have to use my own money?'
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If I raised my hand to wipe the hair out of my children's eyes, they'd flinch and call their attorney.
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Grandma told me Mama was once caught by the Principal for writing in the front of her book, "In Case of Fire, Throw This in First." I have never had so much respect for Mama as the day I heard this.
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Given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it... live it...and never give it back. Stop sweating the small stuff. Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what. Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.
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No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
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Encourage independence in your children by regularly losing them in the supermarket.
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Do I have to use my own money?
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Families aren't easy to join. They're like an exclusive country club where membership makes impossible demands and the dues for an outsider are exorbitant.
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My sister and I never engaged in sibling rivalry. Our parents weren't that crazy about either one of us.
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Shopping is a woman thing. It's a contact sport like football. Women enjoy the scrimmage, the noisy crowds, the danger of being trampled to death, and the ecstasy of the purchase.
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For years, my husband and I have advocated separate vacations. But the kids keep finding us.
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For years my wedding ring has done its job. It has led me not into temptation. It has reminded my husband numerous times at parties that it's time to go home. It has been a source of relief to a dinner companion. It has been a status symbol in the maternity ward.
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Any mother with half a skull knows that when Daddy's little boy becomes Mommy's little boy, the kid is so wet he's treading water.