Wednesday, November 08, 2006


Thanks, y'all!

I'd like to thank everyone for attending Monday's pity-party. Your party favors are in the mail.

My favorite response came from Nilbo (too lazy to link - see link to the left):

"Now here ... (spits on a tissue, wipes a smudge off your cheek, then brushes your hair back out of your eyes) You have such a pretty face. It's a shame to hide it. Go. Play outside. Stop moping around. Get!"

And this brings up a funny "parental embarassment story" from my recent past...

I work as a surgical resident at a fairly good-sized hospital in Southern California. One of my aunts (who happens to be my most favorite of all relatives) works as a nurse practitioner in the ER of the same hospital. My mom (a true mom among moms) came to visit one time, and said aunt brought her to the ER where I was to meet them. I went ot the ER in my VERY OFFICIAL scrubs and my VERY DOCTOR-LIKE long white coat to pick up my mom. We are standing in the middle of the ER (surrounded by patients and emergency room physicians who I hope think of me as a mature, capable surgical consultant) when my Mom begins to look at me very intently. She goes, "Honey, you have something on your face." IMAGINE THE FOLLOWING IN HORRIFYING SLOW MOTION! She proceeds to lick her thumb, and wipe it off my face!! At that moment, I went from BIG IMPORTANT SURGEON to 8 year-old mortified little girl. I was all "MOM! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST DID THAT! OH MY GAWD!"

Fortunately, no one laughed. Because I would have had to cut them. And I know how!

But on the internet, it's okay. So thanks again Nils!

"Mom" trumps "Surgeon" every time. It's just a thing.

I am 52 years old. My baby sister is 50. We were afterthoughts - our closest sib is 5 years older.

Last year was my parents' 60th anniversary. We all travelled to their small town for a celebration. At one point in the weekend, we decided going drinking at a local pub was a good idea, and headed for the cars. But with associated spouses and kids and hangers on, we had to split up.

My mom said "OK, Dad and I will go with (my sister and hub); the three older kids will take another car; and the little kids can come separately."

It took a few seconds before I fully realized that *I* was one of "the little kids". At age 52.

So yeah, schmutz removal via saliva and Kleenex? That will never change.
I was aching for something good to read. Thank you...BOTH!
Oh! Horrifying. But... hee? Pretty funnny. :-)
I love that story. The Instinct To Wipe Dirt From Our Faces: (not so much Hallmark but definitely) Trademark Mom. : )
You just have to hang on until January. I will then come cheer you up in person. I have the most AMAZING capacity for cheering people up. They'll say, "Please come over, I just don't want to be alone right now." And I go over there, and FIVE MINUTES LATER they're cured, saying things like, "Please just go away," "Do you ever stop talking," and "I was insane to think this would help me at all." Five minutes. I'm that good.
My mom still tries to do that too.

Can we have another pity party? One with daquiris and freshly-scented puppies?
Absolutely, we can have another one! Unfortunately it's more likely to have margaritas and wet-dog scented boxers. But hey, it's still a party.
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