Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

— Winston Churchill

Birthday Wishes and Mishaps

Don’t you just hate it when you visit a blog and the top post begins with something like … “I’m so sorry I haven’t been blogging lately. It seem like forever since I’ve posted anything and I miss all my bloggy friends, but I’ve been terribly busy with PQRST U and V…”

It’s like the blogger has some weird fascination with themselves and requires a certain amount of ego gratification and self indulgence. It’s as if he or she thinks the world depends on a prerequisite number of weekly posts or the whole damn Internet itself will fall apart. Yea, I hate those kind of posts too.

Excuse me while I clear my throat…ahhem…

Hi everyone. I’m so sorry I’ve haven’t been blogging lately. It really seems like forever since I’ve posted anything and I miss you all terribly, but I’ve been busy and well, my muse has been absent with malice. OK whatever. I can see the two glasses of red wine I had with dinner may be helping to lower my triglycerides, but they’re considerably hindering my scant attempt at humor, and since you all know that humor is not exactly my forte anyway, let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?

Today is my mom’s birthday, and I’d be remiss not to send a loud shout out to the woman Jan refers to as Mrs. Tricia’s Mom (which makes my mom giggle every time she reads it). HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!

Yes blog world, today is a celebratory day indeed. It’s been awhile since I’ve updated you on my mother’s precarious memory condition and her association with the Prick Doctor, but since it is her birthday, I won’t waddle in the fact that she actually showed up at the Prick Doctor’s wearing her pajamas the other day, all because of the comment he left here at Shout. This daughter has realized she is playing with fire and the words published on this blog apparently have the power to affect people’s real lives. I had no idea. Really, no idea, and if you think I’m kidding about her and her pajamas … I’m not!

In honor of my mother’s birthday, let’s take a break from picking on her and I’ll let you in on a little secret about my dad. He’s a jolly old soul who is so deep in the dog house today I’m not sure he’ll be able to cozy his way out. Apparently good ole dad forgot it was mom’s birthday until about 10:00 this morning, and let me tell you dear friends … this kind of crap just doesn’t fly in mom’s world my family. So, while we’re shouting out Happy Birthday to my mom, please allow me a moment to send my dad a special message:

Dear Dad,

RUN!!! I went ahead and put clean sheets and towels in the guest room. I stocked the fridge with your favorite beer, and the pantry with cashews. As soon as you can, make a run for it. Really, this could get ugly. Remember Mom’s 40th birthday and how she vowed for months that she’d kill anyone who did ANYTHING to recognize the milestone, but then when the day actually arrived and we all diligently followed her instructions NOT to throw a party or lavish her with good wishes and expensive gifts…yea, remember how she held a grudge for a whole five years? Um, well, Dad I think you may be traveling that same path today and I just want you to know that you always have a home here. We’ll be happy to welcome you into Chez Shout, and we won’t even make you babysit … often. On the other hand, more than a decade has passed since Mom’s fateful fortieth, and since we all know how bad her memory has gotten, you may be able to wait this out and she’ll completely forget you were a dork for the first few hours of the day. It’s a crap shoot either way, but Daddy I just want you to know that your two daughters … we’ve got your back.

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