We returned home last night after attending an out-of-town wedding. The ceremony was so beautiful, and from the moment the piano began to play, the poor mom started losing it. There she sat in the pew, hands clenched, weepy-eyed and breathing with difficulty as she watched her daughter walk down the aisle. No, I'm not referring to the mother of the bride. I'm talking about the sweaty, nervous mother of the . . .
Dinner last night: small bag of pretzels on the plane