At twenty-seven Jo had been the dutiful, hard-working son (in the wholesale harness business) of a widowed and gummidging mother, who called him Joey. Now and then a double wrinkle would appear between Jo's eyes--a wrinkle that had no business there at twenty-seven. Then Jo's mother...
This is not my story. My story isn’tnotromantic, but it does revolve around a poop. It was the night before myboyfriend’s30th birthday. At around 11:30, I decided I was tired and wanted to go to bed. He begged me to stay up until he turned 30. I said okay. 11:59 rolls ar...