NYT bestselling author of four novels: The Dogs of Babel, Lost & Found, The Nobodies Album & Harmony. Plus that Eloise piece from the New Yorker.
Joined on 11 March, 2010
So once when my son was little, we were at a park and I said "Watch where you step, there's a lot of goose poop." He said, "What's goose poop?" and I said "Poop from a goose" & that's why I can no longer listen to Kiss From A Rose without singing my own truly disgusting lyrics.
It is fine and normal that the dishes pile up faster than we can wash them, and that there are a zillion empty seltzer cans in the living room, and that sometimes when I say I'm going upstairs to work, I close the door and watch Schitt's Creek by myself. All fine. All normal.
My son just made his college choice, and I'm feeling so sad for this whole nation of seniors who are missing their graduations and probably spending their first semester of college online. But my god are these kids going to have something to talk about at their reunions.