The stone seems remarkably petite for a son, though. More daughter-sized -- where the sex of the child is concerned, I'm talking psychic weight, not physical weight, of course.
(Not that daughters are always light as a feather)
You're absolutely right, of course. The stone should have weighed at least 600 pounds. My daughter's stone would have been smaller, but with lots of little sharp bits sticking out.
I remember all those weapons - but you left out the most dealdy of all - the left foot to the testicles of your dinner guest. I still feel the pain. BTW - whether or not he admits it - he misses you too.
ha! i like it. i laughed out loud at the "what are you, a coyote?" and at the frame right after ("wait, i HATE doing laundry") when you're crying because you feel guilty. haa!
SO spot on about the bursting into hysterics at every turn...I haven't even had to send anyone off anywhere yet,& I'm like that.. I'm gonna needs meds! the BIG guns!
You know, I thought about that, and I even redrew it--very carefully--and then I thought, nah, nobody'll think that, unless they're a complete pervert... so, hopefully, it's just you--and me.
Oh, trust me, none of these stories belong to me. I'm sure they've all already happened to somebody else. If this one's yours, thanks again for letting me use it...
Girl, somehow I am on your mailing list. Glad to be on it. I've been lurking on your little stories for a while.... probably since our show in Princeton together.
I have had a meeting with the school administrators that looked strangely like the one in that strip... right down to the thought bubbles. All I can say is that I'm glad I'm not an adolescent in the current school/NCLB climate. Obama... help us!
We should have lunch, Jennifer. You are a cool lady.
My friend, first of all, may I compliment you on having the best parenthetical sound effects ever included in any comments anywhere in the universe for all time? (In addition to making great comics.)
And on the subject of fathering: the Dads have a better time with the sons because they already went there. Although you will be punished at last for every insane thing you did.
Jay ~ I just read this after coming home from a long dogwalk with a friend who listened oh so patiently to my lament about my son of whom I despair of ever learning how... never mind, but at times I'm convinced he's on the spectrum. I felt a lot better by the end of the dogwalk, but no where near as better as I feel reading your strip.
Oh, babe, I love hearing this. Everybody gave me such a hard time for being an emotional mother at the time, but I knew there was only one way to go through this. The hard way. That way, it counts. And it's what makes the children great!
So what's up with that business about them always growing away. That just sucks. I'm not there yet and already dreading it. yesterday r jumped off a diving board for the first time. sigh.
you are so brilliant. it makes me very happy to see how you've found the perfect language for your stories. These strips are very poetic. I pay particular attention to the words ( that;s just me I guess) but really the magic is how they go with your drawings. Okay, when is the book coming out?
The book is oozing out of me at the great rate of 10 pages a month. So that puts the finish date in 2011. Luckily, I have a fabulously patient publisher.
And only a Brearley girl could give such a cogent literary analysis of a comic! But you've discovered my secret: these comics are meant to be life-poems. I think the poetry I did as a kid, which dried up when I was a teenager, has bubbled up again right here.
Thank you so much for the compliments, Tim. I'm so glad that guys are enjoying this strip, not just women. Of course, this one is for the boys. God love 'em, life would be so fucking dull without them.
I saw in your other reply you wrote fiction for 15 years before finding your voice in these strips--All that work paid off for you, it's really hard to achieve those satori moments with such zen like simplicity and playfulness. Bravo. Uplift is similar to me, though still text/stories. After 15 years of worrying about how I told my stories I just said screw it and decided to let them tell themselves and let it all hang out. Viva la liberacion!
10:25am / Jan 24, 2009
The stone seems remarkably petite for a son, though. More daughter-sized -- where the sex of the child is concerned, I'm talking psychic weight, not physical weight, of course.
(Not that daughters are always light as a feather)
Jim H.
(who's a son)