I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, blogging is the best free therapy around. Many thanks to all the fabulous people who came forward yesterday with their traumatic childhood stories and made me feel like less of a freak.

The overarching moral of this story, folks, is that we should ALL be more careful with what we say to every child we have the privilege of knowing. 

Can you imagine if Picasso’s kindergarten teacher berated him for spilling the green paint?

How many future Picassos or Marie Curies or Dr. Martin Luther Kings has the world lost to adults with sharp tongues?  Just something to consider. Let’s all think a little longer and speak with more love the next time we are angry, especially at a child, m’kay?

Life is better when you choose to see the good in things, so today I am grateful that Mrs. Caruso’s grossly inappropriate response to my involuntary vandalism set me up for a lifetime of learning very useful DIY skills.

I forgive you, Mrs. Caruso. And I hope you were able to find a cure for that halitosis.

Moving on…

As promised, I have written a list of the ten ways plastering walls is like sex. It’s posted as my weekly column In the Powder Room today, just one click away.

It’s a little naughty. I hope you don’t mind.

I’m going to leave the comments here open today just in case you want to talk and can’t leave a comment over there.

with love and gratitude,

-Iris

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