9 Chickweed Lane by Brooke McEldowney for May 08, 2005

Transcript:

"I smell fear." "Fear mixed with the unmistakable scent of..." "lilav." "What's wrong?" "Scores of girls with their moms. They always descend on me after matinees. As if they're all set to take me home wrapped up in butcher paper." "Edda, would you cling to me as we pass them and give them the look?" "What look?" "The one that says, "He's mine. You starved pathetic floozies." "Thanks, sweetie you did the trick." "I should have enjoyed that way less than I did."