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Tuesday, August 9, 2016

What's Good for the Goose

This morning, I was editing a piece I'd written, in which I mention a revealing episode from my wife's past. Nothing bad, just revealing. I asked her if she wanted me to remove it, and she said, "Hon, my family's known about it for years. I'm sixty-one years old. At my age, it's a little late for me to care about what anyone else thinks."

"You mean that bird has flown?" I asked.

"The horse has left the barn," she concurred.

"The cat's out of the bag," I stated.

"The genie's out of the bottle," she emphasized.

"The toothpaste's out of the tube," I propounded.

"Well, I need to get going," she informed. She gave me a smooch on the lips and a quick Eskimo kiss.

"I guess this all proves one thing," I elaborated. "You can't put the baby back in the bathwater."

"Uh hum," she suggested, and was out the door.

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