Chickenless Nuggets of Wisdom

I don’t have any pearls of motherly wisdom to pass along this Mother’s Day (or Smotherhood Day as I like to call it). Having been a mother for a mere 5 ½ years, I hardly feel qualified to wax philosophic on the subject. But, if someone confined me to a chair, stuck an IV of Capri Sun in my arm and forced me to watch a marathon of Dora the Explorer until I spilled my thoughts, I would probably say something like this:

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Don’t Look Down

I didn’t have time to Google, “how to survive a fall,” but based on what I retained from watching Looney Tunes as a kid, I knew I had to bend my knees and maximize my surface area in a spread eagle position if I ever found my myself in a free fall. It’s impossible for me to peer over the second-floor railing of the mall’s food court without thinking about songs I would like played at my funeral (Tom Petty’s, “Free Fallin’” always pops in my head), so for me to voluntarily climb into a man lift recently and be hoisted 60 feet into the air on a blustery, early spring day is a little bit like asking a vegetarian if she’d prefer a Big Mac or a chicken leg for lunch. Both will make you hurl.

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