No more dirty thoughts. Gotta let my sense

No more dirty thoughts. Gotta let my sense of humor mature, I said. Then Ma gave me a meatloaf tip at dinner: "Too much touch dries out the meat." C-can't.. resist.. lotion joke...

I closed my eyes; breathed deeply: in, out; in, out. Opening them, I allowed myself the slightest grin, and said, "Thanks, Ma. I'll keep that in mind." She nodded blithely, and

pumped another quart of breast milk into the jug. "That's for your breakfast cereal tomorrow!" she said & patted me on the head. I wish my mom would let me grow up. At 26, I was

Getting a little to attached to ALL her things that she gave me. Some times it felt awkward in public but at home I would do just about ANYTHING she wanted to do with me

because she was my Doctor. She had one of those shiny silver things strapped to her forehead. She had a lab coat. I didn't realize that she was a Frankenstein too. What this meant

for my co-pay, I had no idea. I dug my insurance card out to see what it might say on the subject of your PP being a Frankenstein and not the doctor. There was nothing specific.

Forgotten.

Temporarily. But eventually an old photo will be found and a little child will ask who it is in the picture. Someone old will fumble for the name and have a flash of memory.

Then I can do some wonderful mail art. I am ready, just need a recipient. Plyocene flower designs can be created without any effort. Do you want to be the guinea pig? Let me know!