A friend admitted that she had way too much time at an airport recently. She had done her exercise walk and had removed her terrorist gear from her eye shadow brush. So she moseyed around to look in the shops with two “Ps” and an “E,” or quaint, high-end shoppes.

It so happens that airports know when unsuspecting hags might have time to spare, so they place shoppes in strategic locations, like everywhere.

She had already bought me a charming purse, probably because she was embarrassed to be seen at the opera with me carrying denim. Or another one that collected cat hair that made everyone sneeze within a square mile.

So she handed me a cute little white box when I picked her up from the bus. It was a charming snow globe, not just any snow globe, one that had the famous dinosaur named Sue.

Funny, I shook it and confetti from my shredder swirled in a blizzard of pieces of my life, mostly bills. Once settled, I thought that I was looking in the mirror. How clever of her to bring me something where I resembled the famous largest and heaviest dinosaur unearthed on record.

The face glared at me with a row of teeth that had obviously been flossed and brushed with great care. The mouth was completely open to see such, but then it was probably always open in her time to yak about the latest gossip concerning a sister-in-law’s Tyrannosaurus brother whose sharp-toothed mother stomped off over a cliff after some other saurus-in-law who wouldn’t stop…I guess dinosaurs had dysfunctional families, also.

Her bones bore traces of aspirin or anti-inflammatory medication to ease the pain of hillside exercise rituals, something that female dinosaurs had to do to keep their tails svelte, also to keep their mates home from roaming the countryside looking for like dinosaurs with lipstick and flossed teeth.

The dinosaur was named after discoverer Sue, though no one actually knows whether male or female. My marvelous little snow globe tells me that she is obviously a female because her hips are large enough to score a basketball hoop in one shot. With several hundred over-sized eggs to process, her varicose veins still remain, at least in my snow globe.

I peered into her face and, sure enough, there were several chins and gray wrinkles. She must have already gone into dinosauri-pause with the accompanying hot flashes to heat up an entire hillside with her fire-breathing discomfort. It looks to me like she was crabby on a regular basis, especially when a bone-scratching male dinosaur entered the scene. Her lengthy tail seems extraordinary, like maybe she flipped it around to warn others of her dinosauri-pause moods.

I was naturally inspired to look up this dinosaur named Sue to see how her life was from day to day. My first discovery was that she procrastinated most of her existence. Paleontologists would dispute this but certain dinosaurs, especially the ones in snow globes, developed a few words. One was “later” when it came to cleaning the saurus dwelling. She complained bitterly about having to do everything while all the male did was pick his teeth with tree branches.

She also seemed to have thrived in ages before luxurious digs with all the creature comforts a dinosaur could want, like state-of-the-art carnivorous kitchen tools to make instant meals fit for a queen.

My snow globe, however, indicates that she nested in a lap of comfort with expensive wine, good books and flowers to admire while saying, “later,” to responsible tasks.