After my last essay, a few of you might wonder why I’ve chosen to write about kids not once but twice in one week when 1) I don’t have any and 2) I don’t particularly …

I hope, one of these days, when the Human Genome Project has finished the important work of isolating the genes that cause breast cancer and heart disease and birth defects and whatnot, and perhaps treated …

“Well, that’s a very sad story, and I feel for you, but it isn’t time for your lunch.”
“Get down. Get down. No, no, no — down on the floor. The desk is for humans. The …

It is the job of the fifth-grade girl to master all things Ew, Gross. She must seek out Ew, Gross tirelessly; she must react to Ew, Gross with melodramatic shrieking, squirming, eye-shielding, and simulated gagging; …

You’ve gone to the post office to mail eighteen boxes of various shapes and sizes to a friend in Belgium. When should you fill out the customs forms?
a. At home, before you come to the …

Sarah: So how’s the packing going?
Couch Baron: Ugh. I just threw away twenty garbage bags of stuff.
Sarah: I didn’t know you had twenty garbage bags of stuff, much less to throw away.
Couch Baron: Neither did …

It’s Monday. It’s the first day of the week. It’s early afternoon on the first day of the week, and already I desperately need a nap, if by “a nap” I actually mean “to hibernate …

Dear Dr. Schlechtekatz,
Our deepest apologies for not contacting you sooner. We need not remind you that our work must remain completely secret, and as a consequence of attempting to maintain our undercover status, we have …

Last Wednesday, my uncle had a heart attack — and not the mild soft-focus slo-mo Bayer commercial kind where everyone’s standing around wearing chambray shirts and looking tragic and well-coiffed in the driveway as the …

When my alarm went off today, I opened my eyes one at a time, very carefully. So far, no pain. I eased up onto one elbow and waited for a hobnailed boot to slam into …