More I grew up thinking there had to be more. I desperately needed more. This couldn’t be all that there is. I WAS MORE.  I thought more was elusive to me, because I didn’t deserve more. I wish I had known back then that that’s all it was.  I had never dreamed I didn’t deserve more, and then when I realized that I deserved it I had no idea how to feel it.  What a bitch to be young and extra and not know what to do with it.  Now, I have more.  And I feel less.  And I don’t need more. 

 Dear Glampa:  My husband's maternal grandmother has just turned 97. We have arranged a Zoom birthday party where we will all have our own cakes. It will also be Valentine's Day. Grinny recently asked if there would be sex in heaven. Would it be inappropriate to make a tasteful cock cake for the occasion? PS: my children will be present.  Sincerely, Consciously Curious Dearest CC,  Mmmmm,....cock.  Sorry, what was your question? Oh, yes! At 97, Grinny deserves any kind of cake that will bring her joy. Of course, the issue that some Puritan, repressed, mother fuckers will have is the kids.  If they know what the cake is, it’s time for “the talk.” If they don’t, just tell them it’s a rocket ship,...with veins.  Nothing wrong with a penis, especially if they happen to have one.