Kate Ryan

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

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.

He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.

Is flagging potentially offensive material taking the PC movement too far?

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.