Skip to main content

Isn't it great to be 48?!

The man teaches Sunday School, makes presentations to multitudes of people for work, was recently recognized for his hard work and given a major award (cue Christmas Story music) but he absolutely loathes to be the center of attention. Therefore, I took it upon myself to spread the word as I walked in late to church on Sunday and whispered in passing to every member of the congregation, "It's Scott's birthday today. Pass it on." One dear, stupid man actually asked me what I was going to give him for his birthday.  I was already talking to my friend, Kaye, and bit my tongue answering only vaguely, "Oh, you know. Golf balls." Then I followed Kaye home before I spontaneously imploded to make my smarty pants remark. Thanks, Kaye. And you're right, of course. The shimmy makes the answer that much sweeter.
 This is what happens when you realize you don't have any birthday candles. Let us take a moment and celebrate (not mock) that Garage Sales do not only have trash. Case in point.

 I don't know who started it.

 But I know who ended it.

Two of the three in the back row are standing on their tippie toes.

Happy birthday, Old Man. 
Only two years away from your colonoscopy.

Comments

  1. Yes. . . that was certainly a stupid question! You are such a riot!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Braces!

13 year old got braces today! She also had a little helper on her.

Christmas Gifts

Jill is the slice of home baked pie you long for. Her dad was a farmer. His dad was a farmer. On a hot summer day Jill would call me up to go floating down the canal or ride the slick rocks with the stream into a barely thawed pool of water. She's also the girl I called one day when I was bored and offered to drive two hours and try out this new thing called "Bungee Jumping." We did although I can't remember why . The first year after my college graduation I found myself particularly low on pride.  First of all, I was a college graduate working as a sales clerk.  Too late I discovered that a bachelors degree in sociology is equal to a high school diploma and, in some cases, a G.E.D. and got you hired at JC Penney trying to upsale with a colorful scarf.  On top of it, I'd been dumped.  It wasn't that he was the love of my life.  In fact, it was quite the opposite.  He started planning the wedding aloud and I freaked out, pointing out that we'd only bee...

They Call Me Grace

I was nearly 8 years old when my baby sister was born. This was quite fortunate since I was well adept at reading. I was tired of my name. Nancy. So plain. The Sunday comics included a comic strip called Nancy. She hung out with her stupid little boyfriend named Russell, was very boring and cried all the time. Why would parents who love their child name her such a boring name? I assumed they had run out of originality by this point. I was, after all, their third child. There was Mike, then Suzy, after me they had Joey (short for Joanne) and finally Jene Marie. The "j" a soft French slur. It was fitting. We had a French surname. But clearly Jene Marie was their crowning glory. Do I hate for taking all the love from my parents and hogging it for herself? Of course not. She's my sister. She's my baby sister. But if I happen to feel the need to speak to her when she's at work, I always ask for her by using both names; Jene Marie (with the schwa). I don't want her...