And Then Before Going Back For My

I Was Sent To Sleepover Camp Since I Was 6, And You Know, It's A Recipe For Disaster.

Being With Friends Felt Like A Burden. I Remember Just Sobbing.

I Think The Difference Between Being Miserable And Finding Happiness Is Just A Matter Of Perspective. If You Live Your Life Defining Yourself By What Other People Think Of You, It's A Form Of Self-torture.

But I Think You Can Make Fun Of Anything As Long As It's Funny Enough.

Since So Many People These Days Don't Seem To Start Their Families Until Around Age Forty, I Predict There Will Be Less Child Beating, But More Slipped Disks From Lifting Babies Out Of Cribs. Even The Father Of Advanced Age Who's Not Inclined To Spare The Rod Is Likely To Suffer More Than His Victim: The First Punch He Throws Might Well Be The Last Straw For His Rotator Cuff, Reducing His Disciplinary Options To Mere Verbal Abuse And Napping.