August 9th was a big day for us.

First, I got my first speeding ticket. I was completely humiliated and blubbered apologetically to the cop while furiously wiping away tears and snot. This display was actually not an attempt to get out of the ticket -- it turns out weeping and self-flagellation are automatic, physiological responses to getting pulled over.

Then, Shef performed in his first concert. He was too nervous to sing “Slippery Fish” without me by his side, so I accompanied him to the front and watched adoringly.




He looks good, right? I mean, so what if I was the only mother on stage.

Finally, on the eve of our fourth wedding anniversary, Dan and I sat down to spend some quality time in front of Project Runway. Heidi waltzed out in front of the designers wearing what appeared to be space-age go-go boots paired with a cleavage-revealing neo-German tunic.

“What is she wearing?” I exclaimed.

“It’s tasteful,” said Dan.

“It’s like … you can’t help staring at her boobs,” I continued, squinting at the shirt and tilting my head to the side, trying to make sense of it.

“I know, and I appreciate that,” Dan answered.

“Dan!”

“What?” he said innocently. “She has huge cans.”