There is a front and a back to disposable pull-up underpants.*  I say yes.  Husband says no.  What say ye?

* Children’s underpants.  Don’t even go there.  It’s too easy.  You dishonor yourself.

Madhousewife prepares for her Ladies’ Auxiliary Meeting

Mad:  I’m supposed to bring a picture of myself doing something that I enjoy.

SD:  I won’t say anything.

Mad:  I don’t have many pictures of myself doing anything, much less something I enjoy.

SD:  We have pictures of you sleeping.

Mad:  That’s true.

SD:  I’m sure we have a picture of you eating, too.

Mad:  That’s not a bad idea.

Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., aka the dude who wrote my college history textbook, dies at 89

Who cares, you ask?  Well, I didn’t know the cat was still alive yesterday, and here he is dead this morning.  It makes one reflect.  Also, I needed something to fill this space.

Actually, aside from writing a fine U.S. history textbook (except, apparently, for the section on the Reagan years, which even my liberal U.S. history professor said was biased beyond reason–wouldn’t know myself, as I wasn’t tested on it, heh), what I liked about Schlesinger–which is based totally on hearsay from aforementioned professor and which may be aprocryphal but if it is don’t tell me because I prefer to believe it’s a true story–is that his first book, The Age of Jackson, was originally supposed to be his doctoral dissertation, but his dissertation committee was a bunch of egotistical academic pains in the you-know-where who kept sending it back for revisions and refusing to give him his Ph.D., so he finally sold it to a publisher and became the nation’s most prominent historian, never having received his Ph.D., thus sticking it to the man in the best possible way.  Deal with that, egotistical academic pains-in-the-***!  Schlesinger’s coming to stick it to you all in that big Ph.D. committee in the sky.  Hopefully he won’t run into Reagan while he’s up there.