One humid August day, my husband, Phil, and I flew down the highway in our “swagger wagon” (a.k.a. our ultra-cool white minivan). We were in a huge hurry because it was just the two of us on our way to a much-anticipated lakeside getaway.
To help pass the miles, Phil turned on satellite radio—you know, the one with about 3,000 channels. First, we tuned into ESPN sports. Next, it was an afternoon talk show. And, finally, we tried a live audio feed of one of the major news outlets.
When I was in the third grade, we had a dog named Cannoli. She was a white, completely fluffy poodle … that is, until one day when she got a haircut.
My mom decided that Cannoli needed to look a little more legit. So, she took her to a groomer. Well, of course, any groomer was going to cut her hair like a poodle—you know, with the puffy little bottom and the puffy tail with the little ball on the end.