Humour

Refer to this handy checklist whenever you’re wondering if you are, in fact, middle-aged.

A day in the life of your child’s worst teacher ever.

Do you see this weird buzzing box in your hand? Yes, it’s a bottomless portal to the parsing of horrifying world news and/or pictures of everybody’s #pandemicmuffins. But it is also a Phone, and you can talk on it—with your mouth.

Public health necessity but make it fashun!

Dear “Shabby Chic” Cottage Held Together Mostly by Petrified Mouse Corpses: I’m writing to tell you that despite a lifetime of being told you’re the Ultimate Canadian Experience, I’ve decided that you, cottage, are crap.

While I adore my only child, there’s still a certain chill that crawls up my spine every time Ben starts calling out in a singsongy voice (you know, the kind you hear in horror movies with children who do terrible things): “Who-o-o wants to play with me?”

Yes, it’s true: they’re procreating.

Tomorrow is when all the unwashed masses enter into a blood feud for spots in city-run classes and summer camps. It can be a grisly business, friends, but if you follow this fail-proof plan, you just might come out alive.