It Is My Theory You Can't Get

I Have A Hat. It Is Graceful And Feminine And Give Me A Certain Dignity, As If I Were Attending A State Funeral Or Something. Someday I May Get Up Enough Courage To Wear It, Instead Of Carrying It.

Most Mothers Entering The Labor Market Outside The Home Are Naive. They Stagger Home Each Evening, Holding Mail In Their Teeth, The Cleaning Over Their Arm, A Lamb Chop Defrosting Under Each Armpit, Balancing Two Gallons Of Frozen Milk Between Their Knees, And Expect One Of The Kids To Get The Door.

I Am Always Behind The Shopper At The Grocery Store Who Has Stitched Her Coupons In The Lining Of Her Coat And Wants To Talk About A 'strong' Chicken She Bought Two Weeks Ago. The Register Tape Also Runs Out Just Before Her Sub-total. In The Public Restroom, I Always Stand Behind The Teen-ager Who Is Changing Into Her Band Uniform For A Parade And Doesn't Emerge Until She Has Combed The Tassels On Her Boots, Shaved Her Legs, And Recovered Her Contact Lens From The Commode.

I Originate From A Family Where Sauce Is Viewed As A Refreshment.

If God Had Meant Us To Walk Around Naked, He Would Never Have Invented The Wicker Chair.