I'm in the pickup line at my son's middle school, and I have fifteen minutes before dismissal to go through today's mail, which I grabbed before leaving the driveway. The latest Popular Mechanics came today, and my eleven-year old will be all over it. Determined to preserve his innocence a bit longer and limit his exposure to erectile dysfunction ads, I rip the Cialis ad out of the magazine. Between Pop Mech and his favorite BBC series, Top Gear, I'm just waiting for the day

My husband can’t understand why I don’t enjoy playing in the snow. I’m forty-three, and I will now go sledding for a bit with my own kids. I have waterproof North Face boots and a ski coat that actually fits and comes complete with an avalanche alert GPS sewn somewhere inside (laughable because I am afraid of chairlifts, let alone back country skiing where avalanches happen). As a kid, it was hand-me-down central, sleeves were too short, mittens were knitted yarn, snow got