Kate Ryan

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

I saw my old babysitter at a women’s wrestling cage match.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.