Between the Lines

Have you ever noticed that society seems to be built on and around the concept of lines?

We're supposed to stand in line, drive between lines, get down to the bottom line, sign your name on the line and in more (or less) sobering moments, some may be asked to walk a straight line.

There are lines of and for communication, the lines of a woman's body and the lines on her face, the lines of text in a good book, lines that make up pictures and art.  Bungee lines, power lines, zip lines, clothes lines, field lines, side lines, goal lines and battle lines.

There's the invisible line or the line in the sand that no one's supposed to cross (but often gets crossed regardless).

Poverty lines, staff lines, flood lines or drum lines. Lines on a Richter scale, chorus lines, air lines and pick-up lines.  Cruise lines, subway lines, toll lines or credit lines.

The shortest distance between two points is a....STRAIGHT LINE.

Then you get down to dividing lines.

Blood lines that separate.

Political lines that divide:  city lines, county lines, state lines, or country lines.

The sometimes indistinguishably fine line between right and wrong, good and bad.

Doesn't it seem like it's all about the lines?

Even down to the last line on a tombstone.

Day in and day out we're surrounded by, enamored with, and imprisoned by lines.

It's no wonder that in a country that believes in "United We Stand" we're still so divided we fall.  Every part of our lives are so occupied in one form or another by lines that we imagine them to be where they're not.

Lines of division between race, gender, health or wealth.

Lines of division between political party or social standing.

Even religions are divided.  Not just the Muslims and the Jews and the Buddhists.  But the Baptists, the Methodists, the Catholic....the CHRISTIANS.

We can stand together as one...or we can divide ourselves out until the point that we're so separated by lines that we eventually stand, literally, as one.


Off with his head!

The male species is something entirely else...

I got some new makeup as a treat for myself for my birthday and was in the bathroom playing around with it when Ty came in and pretended to beat me up.

Of course I cry out and yell from help from my Prince Charming, who comes running in, Nerf Sword in hand and wrests the villain onto the ground at sword point at my feet and demands an apology.

To add to it, I put my foot out and insist he kiss my foot too, to which Ty my tormentor resistantly does. Jason again insists on an apology and my tormentor shouts out "NEVER".

Of course I was left with no other option but to demand "OFF WITH HIS HEAD".

Two minutes later the boys are Nerf Sword Fighting in the living room shouting "Off with his pecker!"

How could I NOT love them?

Tyisms | Age

Ty (in regards to an upcoming birthday):  How old are you going to be?
Me:  29
Ty:  So you're 28?
Me:  Yep.
Ty:  And then you'll be 90?
Me: Noooooo.....I won't be 90.