starts with a "j"

I am looking for a book to replace the one that my daughter borrowed from a friend ... and misplaced. We saw it recently in the living room, but now nobody can find it. Including me, and I am usually pretty good about finding such things. The book is a little bit obscure, so I'm not sure I'll be able to find it in a store, either, but it's worth a try. I scan the bookshelves at the Walnut Creek Barnes & Noble, but do not see it. I come across two store clerks chatting, and decide to ask them for help finding it.

Me - (in my super-polite voice) Excuse me, hi, I'm wondering if you can help me find a book -- the title is something like one thousand and one cranes, and it has a pink cover.
Fifty-ish woman clerk - Oh, is it a Japanese folk tale?
Forty-ish woman clerk - (clicking away at the computer) Yes, I think it is ...
Me - No, it's not ... it's actually in a modern setting ... it takes place in --
Fifty - Oh! There is that Japanese folk tale about the crane who pulls out her feathers and weaves it into silk ...
Me - (still in super-polite voice) Oh, yes, and the crane turns into a woman ... no, it's not that story. It's in a modern setting ...
Forty - Isn't there a book about Sadako and paper cranes?
Me - Yes, there is, but this is a different story ...
Fifty - Oh, yes, Sadako ... isn't she the little Jewish girl who folded all those cranes while she was imprisoned during the Holocaust?
Me - (now in trying-not-to-sound-shocked but still polite voice) Ummm, no, Sadako was Japanese, and she got sick and died after the bombing of Hiroshima in WWII ...
Forty - (jovially) Ha ha! Well ... same war! Ha ha!

Wow. My eyeballs bugged out of my sockets, then popped back in, while steam shot out of my ears and my jaw dropped to the floor, and my tongue rolled in and out of my mouth like a party horn blowout. Oh, wait, that was just the invisible cartoon version of me that flashed in my head. The real life version of me -- old, jaded and tired -- managed to just super-politely get out of there and get a gift card.

UPDATE: My daughter found the book. It was in her bookshelf.

manly man

“Hey, Mom. Can you buy me some Axe?”

And, with that, I was officially initiated into the world of teen-parenting. I had been dreading the day I would hear these words. I had known this day would come, since I had heard that Axe was the deodorant-of-choice among the boys at my son’s school. Still, I was caught off-guard that this was happening so soon.

I remember when he was just a baby! Well, actually, that’s only in my more lucid moments. Sometimes I think back to when he was just a baby, and I can’t seem to remember much. I decide this is not the time to get sentimental – besides, it is an excuse to go to Target. I love shopping at Target.

I get a bit woozy standing in the deodorant aisle, inhaling a smorgasbord of manly aromas. Somehow, I remain conscious enough to notice the tiny writing on the labels: “Sharp Focus: Stay dry, Stay focused on her,” “Dry Action: Approved for Hot Encounters,” “Dark Temptation: As Irresistible as Chocolate.” Wow. Apparently, this Axe is powerful stuff.

I pick up one of them and take a whiff. Whoa. Definitely not that one. How about this one? No, not that one either. This one is actually repulsive! A guy would have to stay focused on her as she was running away from the smell of Axe! I warily smell the one touting its dark temptation, since chocolate is pretty irresistible to me. Fortunately, I am strong enough to resist.

I finally settle on one of them: the blue one. The writing on the label is hard to read, and I am hoping my son doesn’t notice what it says. It smells relatively more subtle than the others … or at least that is what I tell myself as I add it to my shopping cart.

When my son gets home, I non-chalantly tell him I got him his Axe. “Thanks, Mom!” he says, cheerfully. “Can I have a snack? I’m hungry.”

What a relief. He may want to smell manly, but he’s still my little boy.