This may make me sound terrible, but I’m going to be brutally honest.

When I was a girl, I used to really worry about having ugly kids. I knew this woman that had some God-awful ugly children, and I was terribly concerned it could happen to me in the future.

As I grew and became a teenager, I even broke up with a boyfriend or two because the longer I looked at them, the more I was convinced they were incapable of producing the quality children I dreamed of. (I told you I’d sound terrible.)

I never thought I was particularly beautiful, but I thought I was “OK.” I knew, however, that I had some less than beautiful kinfolk; this was why I could take no chances with my potential children’s father. I needed his genes to counteract Aunt Ida’s, Uncle Elroy’s and Cousin’s Jim’s.

After years of torturing myself over this matter, it turns out it was all for naught. Gerber never had a baby on any of its pictures that was prettier than my Leslie. She had the most perf...

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I was just coming back to myself this morning after a five-day migraine whenever I grudgingly realized I had to get back to work and write this week’s column.

It’s times like these where being a hypochondriac really pays off. I didn’t want to go to work; didn’t feel like going to work but on the bright side, I’ll get to moan and groan about how bad I feel and instead of politely greeting me, then tuning out to think about something else while I begin my laundry list of ailing complaints or just ignoring me completely like some people do, you’ll get to pour yourself a cup of coffee and do something you enjoy – like read the morning’s paper.

If you don’t like my column this week, please don’t tell me – because I’m having one of the grandest times a body can have. PLEASE don’t think “hypochondria” is simply “making up or FAKING” medical complaints. OH NO! That’s not what I do at all! I have 10 surgical scars and four physical therapists that will all attest to the validity...

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Leslie and Danielle went home yesterday after five weeks of living here with mom and me, and I can tell you this about their visit with us; it was LONG. I’m grateful that I got the opportunity to bond with my granddaughter because until now, I really hadn’t seen her enough for her to know who I was, but I KNEW Leslie already! (Y’all notice I only write this kind of stuff when there’s four counties between us? By the time she finds the scrapbooks and reads them, I’ll be dead and gone and hopefully her heart will be softened by the “Missing Mom” syndrome.)

Four generations of Campbell women under the same roof could have been a catastrophe of Biblical proportions had there not been four bathrooms to accommodate us all. Still, you’d be surprised at how often that number seemed to be inadequate. It seemed that we each had our own favorite restroom of choice or only one had “our stuff” in it when it came time to get ready, etc. And woe be to whoever was in “our” bathroom whenever WE ...

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I had know idea how much I liked to eat until today when I wasn’t allowed so much as a single morsel of solid food. It’s not uncommon for me to go all day long without thinking about food on some days but today when I KNEW I couldn’t have anything – for some reason, food was ALL  I could think about.

(Give me a sec).

It’s funny how it works like that, huh?

(Excuse me for a minute). (Good grief this is getting ridiculous! How long does this stuff stay in your system anyway?).

 I’m going through all this because I’m kind of paranoid about colon cancer. Both my Daddy and my brother have had the disease. I haven’t shown any symptoms of it but neither had they when their cancers were discovered during routine colonoscopies.

(Oops, I’ll be right back).

Regrettably, my dad waited too long to get interested in his health and he paid the ultimate price; he died 10 months after his cancer was discovered, but during those months he became a pa...

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Did you watch the Oscars? Me neither.

I haven’t been to a movie since the last time I happened to be in San Antonio and Leslie was taking Hunter to see a kiddie flick. That’s how I found myself in a crowded theater with a bunch of six year olds watching “The Bee Movie.” (He’s 9 now so that gives you some idea of how long ago that’s been.) Oddly enough, that was the first (and last) movie I’ve enjoyed for 25 years.

The last movie star I knew anything about what John Wayne and I hear he’s dead now. Watching the Oscars would have been an exercise in futility for me. I wouldn’t have known any of the films and wouldn’t have known any of the actors. I used to occasionally watch Barbara Walters’ preshow gabfests just to try and stay relevant, but as I’ve aged, things like that have gotten less and less important. I don’t really give a rat’s rear if Johnny Pitt or Brad Depp is named PEOPLE magazine’s “Sexiest Man of the Year”, or  which one wins an Oscar for that matter. I ...

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You’d think I’d learn. After the Christmas Day massacre in Scrabble from my 8-year-old grandson, I have no idea what possessed me to go up against him in the video game version of “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?”They say “Ignorance of the Law” is no excuse; I guess in my case “Ignorance is the ONLY excuse.”

Mom and I went to San Antonio this past weekend to celebrate Hunter’s ninth birthday and he pulled out this game and I thought, “I’m not real smart, but he’s only in the third grade – how bad can it get?” I have underestimated that kid ever since he was born. He went first, selecting a third-grade geography question that asked him which continent the Nile River was on. It gave him three possible choices and he hemmed and hawed before finally selecting “AFRICA!” with a triumphant shout.

Jeff Foxworthy appeared to tell me it was my turn next so I selected fourth-grade history. My question was “During the French and Indian War, who was the primary enemy of France?”...

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I had Hunter for a week over the Christmas holidays. His mom doesn’t like for him to watch a lot of television so this meant I had to find alternative methods of entertainment. We watched a few (mom approved) movies and he’d brought a few toys with him but by the middle of the week I could sense a little boredom beginning to creep in and I thought, “Oh no no no! This cannot happen at MawMaw’s house,” so without giving it the thought process it was due, I said, “Hey Hunter, you’ve WAY outgrown Candyland – wanna learn how to play Scrabble?” and of course he said, “Sure.”

Mother and I play this game four or five nights a week, so I wasn’t particularly worried about pitting my skills up against an 8-year-old third-grader. I neglected to factor in that this particular third-grader had started reading his mother’s Harry Potter books while still in kindergarten (a serious miscalculation on my part).

I explained the game to him and he seemed to catch on so we began our play. He ...

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I’m such a dork. Somehow the Snuggie has replaced the much maligned fruitcake as the Christmas gift of scorn and derision this Christmas season of 2009. 

The fact that I gave Snuggies as gifts is not what makes me a dork; the fact that the Snuggie I received is my favorite gift – now THAT’S what pretty much guarantees me “dork bragging rights.” Consider also that I wear my Snuggie while eating stale, leftover fruitcake and I’m sure you’ll agree this cements my place in the mystical world of “dork stratosphere.” 

  I guess you can call me the High Priestess of Low Class in my holiday trappings. While others wear satin and velvet, I never feel more alive than when I’m floating from room to room in my cloud of blue fleece. Though others may choose creme brulet or fancy hand filled tarts for dessert, I’m satisfied with store bought fruitcake or week old snickerdoodles. 

  The really cool part of this Snuggie Christmas is the fact that my little...

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Most folks seem to think that kids are growing up too fast these days what with the use of modern technology. It seems that toys have gotten so advanced that children don’t have to use their imaginations much. A click of a button can cause something to move, appear on a screen or evolve into a totally different object.

I’ve read articles about the damage this is doing to our children’s future ability to invent and create since they’ll have no ability to see things in their heads. But I learned last Christmas when I was in San Antonio at my daughter’s house that technology isn’t all bad when we pulled out the computer and logged on to Santa tracker.com to keep up with St. Nick’s night around the world.

  I had no idea this journey was available for boys and girls to watch, but Hunter’s daddy knows all about computers so he knew just where to go to find it. Earlier in the evening we’d been at my house in Orange having Christmas with my mom, so we didn’t arrive back i...

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Whether it’s Walmart, a trip to see the kids or just an afternoon walk – I never go anywhere that I’m not taking mental notes for a possible future column. And so I entered my 35th high school class reunion with my mental pencil ready for jotting down memorable tidbits. 

I didn’t have to look far for a story. It (she) was waiting in the entrance as soon as I arrived. I had expected not to recognize everybody at this shindig; it had, after all, been 35 years and time can do some “rearranging.” But as we neared the door I saw this lady who didn’t look a day over 22 and I asked Ruthie, the classmate I’d ridden to the reunion with, “Who’s that?” I needed to know whether I was supposed to go hug her and graciously tell her how great she looked while simultaneously offering how “good” it was to see her.

(While of course, it was NOT – no one wants to see anyone who has defied the laws of nature like this gal obviously had.) I mean, I’m not evil, I like to see my friends do...

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