Penny Candy

I've been getting cozy with some witty ladies lately. Erma Bombeck and Jean Kerr get me to sleep at night after fits of laughter, curled up with one of their books. It's kind of funny for a twenty-two year old girl, unmarried, and without children to get such a kick out of these two famous mothers, but so be it. I like what I like.

At the grocery store today, Ryan let me read aloud Kerr's essay "Twiggy Who?" as we ram-shacked the frozen section:

My husband and I were passing the Public Library recently and we saw three teen-age girls sitting on the wall like three sparrows on a branch. They all had crewcuts and wore heavy eye make-up but no lipstick. My husband looked at them and said, "What do you suppose is the matter with those girls?" I explained that I thought they were trying to look like Twiggy. "Twiggy who?" he asked. I launched into an explanation by asking a series of rhetorical

questions: "Have you left the planet? Where in heaven's name

have you been for the last six months? Do those glasses need to

be changed again?" He listened with great patience and finally

murmured, "Is that so? Now where would I have seen this girl?"