Sweet mystery of life, and more.

However I knew that my parents had been dating for seven years before they had been married, and that much of their storied romance took place in Echo Lake in the Catskills where my dad’s family managed small hotels in summer. How could I have not thought about my mom’s age?

By the time I was seven I was over analyzing everything; by the time I was twelve I had figured out that I was “illegitimate,” would be asked by my parents for opinions on everything. I was smart, but….

One day when I was fourteen I noticed my mom’s passport on the marble that served as our family catch-all. I couldn’t help it; I looked. And gasped. No way could my mom be this old, no way at all. She was so pretty, so energetic, so not young…but she really did look younger than my Friends mothers who were all ten to fifteen years younger.

Suddenly life made both more and less sense. I understood why my friends all knew their mothers names; and why I had never known my mom’s age. But and this is the big but, how could she be that old and look so good?

My sister and I had been taught that there were only two acceptable lies: A ladies age and anything to do with sex outside marriage. Yes, I had known about sex when I was five; I knew that my dad had friends who sometimes didn’t pay their first wives alimony and my dad had to bail them out of Alimony Jail, which I thought of as a friendly place that men went to, to escape their present wives and play poker. Oh yes I was incredibly sophisticated.

And would have been much more bothered if my little sister wasn’t constantly asking me if I knew my mom’s age. It was the first and only time that I knew I could safely say “no, don’t know it,” in a mumble because lying and tattling were the worst things we could possibly do.

My sister stopped asking when she turned fourteen. When we were adults we talked about it. My sister accused me of holding out on her. Since I had never told her, and she found out a mere two years later, I accused her of the same. We both accosted our mother with questions.

Did she or did she not leave the passports out on the marble for us to find? Our mother would pretend to have long term memory problems at times like this. Now that I think about it, it was much more something our father would do; but she would have had to have been compliant. Oh this is just too complicated to think about….

I had awarded Cooper her own country. She’s since been upgraded to the Empress of her own continent; the lost, but very thriving continent of Wonderlandornot. As it is a very large and prosperous continent, the following people will have their own countries within Wonderlandornot, and will only have to bow to Empress Alice, as she will be known–once a year. Empress Alice will name said countries: Miz Bohemia, Sar, Shayna, Esoteric Wombat and IM Dedd.

What do the people in the above paragraph have in common besides the now found Continent of Wonderlandornot? Participation in the newest and best political/community blog in the world, BIO! If you haven’t read BIO, check it out. If you want to participate, send an email. We’re liberal but open.

If you’re wondering how Bone’s post on his mom, Sunday school and Bear Bryant, inspired mine read Bone’s post. He’s good, very good. Everybody I mentioned here is.

I might have bought into the child bride story, but that was the last time, well one of the last times, well maybe still a little, anybody fooled me.

Though nobody has ever been able to fool me about good writing, insight, and great blogs. Will never ever plug somebody I don’t believe in.

If you want me to plug you, we have operators standing around….