A Tall Girl's Adventures in a Tiny World

My mom would have turned 60 today. She is in my head every day, but a much younger version. So I can only imagine what she would look like at this point: I imagine her sparkling green eyes have a few more wrinkles around them -- laugh lines, of course, similar to the lines that accentuate her smile. She's still trying to find the perfect shade of strawberry blond to cover those stubborn streaks of white above her ears; sometimes her hair is a little too blond, sometimes a little too red. She still obsesses about her chin and her pot belly. Her long, thin arms and legs are a touch more suntanned than ever before from all the time spent gardening and playing on the beach with her grandson. She'd be retired now, after all, with more time to spend in her beloved outdoors -- but I'm sure she'd still be teaching here and there, maybe volunteering in an after-school program for gifted kids or tutoring adults who need reading help. She'd stay busy. Could never sitting still...

I know you've been here before: You're sitting at a family-friendly eatery with your child, or maybe even with your spouse, girlfriend/boyfriend, enjoying a nice little meal when the bozo at the table next to you starts spouting out obscenities. He's dropping f-bombs left and right...every sentence contains at least one (because let's face it, it's a highly versatile word), like it's, oh, bunny or very or pretty . So you give him a look. You know the one: the passive-aggressive "hey, buddy, knock it off, my kid's right here" look. But he doesn't get it. Why would he? This is how he speaks, after all. Why would he notice you and your wide-eyed 4-year-old sitting to his left? So you try to talk louder to your child so as to distract yourself and your partner from the foulmouthed fool. "How's that quesadilla, love? Isn't it good?!" -- and your child looks at you with confusion because he doesn't understand why you're yel...