comics: Browse The Strips
Foreign-Language Versions:
If there's a non-English version of this strip available, it'll show up below. Or, you can browse our entire collection on this page.
French Strip:
Sunday, January 21, 1990
Sunday, September 30, 1990
Tuesday, December 4, 1990
Foreign-Language Versions:
If there's a non-English version of this strip available, it'll show up below. Or, you can browse our entire collection on this page.
Danish Strip:
Monday, May 27, 1991
Foreign-Language Versions:
If there's a non-English version of this strip available, it'll show up below. Or, you can browse our entire collection on this page.
Danish Strip:
Wednesday, June 24, 1992
Monday, July 6, 1992
Friday, September 22, 1995
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Lynn's Comments: This is another glimpse from my childhood. My dad was the kind of guy who loved to build go-karts and tree houses and water slides on the lawn. Even though it wasn't cool to do stuff with your parents, a day with Dad always ended with a trophy of some kind: something built or found or eaten. When we weren't building stuff, we were hitting the dump or scrounging in the workshop and after that, we'd go to the Dairy Queen. The BIG cone cost a quarter and was almost too big to eat.
It was when we had grown up a bit that we stopped hanging out with Dad. We'd give him excuses for why we weren't into making stuff or going out and it hurt him to see us change. I do remember him taking the neighbour's kid out for an ice cream cone and wondering, "Why isn't he taking me?" - knowing full well that I'd cut him out of my circle of friends. I just wanted him to be a dad. What I didn't know was that he was being a dad and - he was exceptional!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Lynn's Comments: This strip has a bit of a story behind it. I was travelling quite a bit for work and was often waiting to board a plane somewhere. I was en route to New York and sitting in the lounge were all kinds of folks heading to meetings and events and so on. Our flight had been delayed. Some were late for connecting flights, some were unable to contact people who were meeting them. We were all getting frustrated and anxious. An hour went by with no information. Then another hour passed. Eventually we were all furious. The tension was awful ... but then a miracle occurred.
A man went completely berserk--he stood up, cursing the airline, and the attendants at the gate. He threw down his briefcase and stomped on it, shouting and waving his arms. He threatened to sue. He screamed obscenities. At that point, the rest of us relaxed. We all watched as someone else acted out our frustrations perfectly. As he ranted, we said to ourselves, "Yeah, that's right. That's exactly how I feel."
By the time the authorities came, the lounge was a quiet place full of calm people. It was instant stress relief. It occurred to me that I performed this same service for my family; the more irate I became about something, the less they cared about it!
A man went completely berserk--he stood up, cursing the airline, and the attendants at the gate. He threw down his briefcase and stomped on it, shouting and waving his arms. He threatened to sue. He screamed obscenities. At that point, the rest of us relaxed. We all watched as someone else acted out our frustrations perfectly. As he ranted, we said to ourselves, "Yeah, that's right. That's exactly how I feel."
By the time the authorities came, the lounge was a quiet place full of calm people. It was instant stress relief. It occurred to me that I performed this same service for my family; the more irate I became about something, the less they cared about it!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Lynn's Comments: After dinner we had a routine: Check to see what homework had been brought home and "remind" Aaron until he got it done. Oh, he would have done it without the nagging. He would have left it until the last minute and dashed off enough to make do. He might even get up in the middle of the night to complete a project, but we liked him to finish it earlier. We wanted to teach him responsibility and pride in having done something to the best of his ability. We didn't want him to do what WE did!
Friday, July 12, 2013
Friday, August 16, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Aaron did bring a gift for each one of us--fortunately, there were no crabs. This idea came from one of my own attempts to keep wildlife. Trips to the beach on the west coast often included digging in the tide pools, where we'd find all kinds of neat sea creatures. One day I brought home a pail full of crabs, which I left in the trunk of the car. I didn't remember them until my mom said there was a horrible smell coming from the trunk. That smell stayed for weeks ... and so did Mom's anger!
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Now that I am dogless, I find dog breath hard to take. When I had Farley, his breath came with warm licks, and his enquiring sniffs were more than welcome. Even so, there were times when I couldn't stomach the smell. Once, when Farley ate my chives, I was overwhelmed by his breath, but there was one time that was much worse; I was standing at my kitchen window watching him happily lying on the warm driveway, chewing something he'd found with obvious relish. He chewed with that look of ecstasy, the look children have when they're eating ice cream, that blissful satisfaction that comes with flavour and fun and mouth-watering fulfillment. He'd toss his head back, reposition his prize, and chew again. He was happy. Eventually, my curiosity got to me and I went out to see what succulent something he was chewing on. I couldn't believe my eyes. The object he was blissfully savouring was a flat, well-rotted, dried-out toad. To Farley, it was dog jerky. To me, it was horrible. I would have shown the true source of Farley's halitosis, but really, it was too gross for publication! [Eventually this gag did make an appearance, with Edgar doing the dirty deed.]
Monday, September 23, 2013
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Again, a Sunday strip that didn't have to be invented. Word for word, this was real dialogue, and I wrote it down on a paper towel in the kitchen. I never seemed to have a notebook available. There was one in my bedside table for ideas that came in the night, but during the day, I had to grab whatever scrap of paper I could find. I learned quickly to capture an idea as soon as I could. My chequebook, which was always in my purse (before credit cards), was filled with punch lines, fast sketches, and ideas for future strips. Trying to remember these things later was impossible, and if I let a good one get away, I'd be miserable! This exchange made for a cathartic cartoon and saved my son, once again, from the wrath of Mom.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Lynn's Comments: I had a number of complaints about "violence" in this scenario. These same people said nothing about the cruel injury suffered by our hero in the previous strips!
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Lynn's Comments: Chores were a given around our house when I was a kid. In fact, all the kids I knew had to do something to earn their allowance. It was so unfair. I remember thinking how lucky my parents were to have so much power and freedom. They could, if they wanted to, go anywhere without having to say where they were going or when they'd be back. They had money and jobs and a car. My brother and I were servants! We had do what they wanted us to do, be where they wanted us to be, say what they told us to say, and work! I remember snivelling about how hard it was to pile firewood, weed the garden, sweep the walks. Torture. It was TORTURE!
So, when it was my turn to have the upper hand, I told my kids that it was their duty to help around the house. I gave them a chore list and a deadline. They snivelled and complained, and said the same stuff (behind my back) that I said about my folks. They said how lucky I was to be the boss, to have freedom and power and money. They said how unfair I was and how mean! It took patience, strength and perseverance, but in the end, they too learned to pitch in and lighten the load.
Now my daughter has two kids, and the oldest (age two) complains about having to pick stuff up and put it away. Yeah, the best thing about being a grandparent is watching your kids deal with their kids--who are doing the same stuff they did to you!!
So, when it was my turn to have the upper hand, I told my kids that it was their duty to help around the house. I gave them a chore list and a deadline. They snivelled and complained, and said the same stuff (behind my back) that I said about my folks. They said how lucky I was to be the boss, to have freedom and power and money. They said how unfair I was and how mean! It took patience, strength and perseverance, but in the end, they too learned to pitch in and lighten the load.
Now my daughter has two kids, and the oldest (age two) complains about having to pick stuff up and put it away. Yeah, the best thing about being a grandparent is watching your kids deal with their kids--who are doing the same stuff they did to you!!
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Lynn's Comments: This is me. This is my teenage room, and my way of doing things. Some strips I did from memory, and with renewed respect for my mother.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Lynn's Comments: I was so happy while drawing this. A good gag gave me great expressions to work with as I built up to the punch line. Not only did I enjoy the process here, but I was getting back at my mother and all the teachers who told me to "get down to business and hit the books." This strip was a cleansing experience.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Monday, June 22, 2015
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Lynn's Comments: Our kids fought over the family hammock, and we knew it would be a bone of contention until: 1) they grew up, or 2) one of the trees fell down. In a storm one night, the problem was solved; the bigger of the two trees was uprooted and had to be removed. The irony was that both kids were grown and gone by then.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Friday, November 20, 2015
Lynn's Comments: There's no punch line here. There should have been. Mike had an opportunity to answer the question with a smart comeback. I couldn't think of one--so, neither could he. This is when telling on-going stories, making one day's strip lead into another, saved my behind. Now and then I could end a strip with an obvious silence--and get away with it.
Monday, January 4, 2016
Lynn's Comments: Since ours was a bit of a "blended family" I wanted to include the common concern: will my kid and our kid get along?
