It Warn't no Pic-a-nic any Which Way you Slice it

I survived the dentist. You knew I would. I came home and snuggled under my crocheted afghan and started to watch an Oprah that was about a man, who was really a woman, who had decided to change it up and become a man, who got pregnant, because apparently when you change it up, you are still really a woman parts wise. Only you bill yourself as a man. I think that's how it was presented. I was so confused. I switched (not teams, stations) to a Dr. Phil that was about mothers who are momzillas and control their children too much. Oh, you can bet I will be referring any and all of my children to THAT episode if they EVER wish to bring up even the tiniest little hiccup against my mothering skills. Watching TV can be just as bad as dental anticipation.