Urgency

Most, if not all have been there; the thousand pound weight pressing on your bladder screaming for a body to get thee to the nearest relief station PDQ or else . . .

Often most, if not all have been able (thanks to kegels?) to urge the pressing weight back up the canal, so to speak, allowing those precious extra minutes for a body to locate the nearest station toward partaking of sweet, satisfactory, sensational . . . aaahhhhh . . .

And then there is the other, uhm, emergent need. The one that begins with a rumbling in the tummy. Not the gentle gurgle signaling the need for a bit of food. No, not that. The roiling, bubbling churn signaling that all is about to break loose.

As was recently re-discovered there isn't much a body can do to urge ferocious fecal matter back up the pike, so to speak, once descent has begun. The hope and eternal sunshine prayer is that said body is close enough to a relief station toward avoiding mega-mess (memory flash) and . . .
well, yuck.

On a related note, when we were kids mom taught us to say BM as opposed to boo-boo, ca-ca, poop (or poopie). And the first curse word my mom heard me say; shit. As in, "shit nawl."

It's Friday, act like it dammit!

This or That: Cookie Candy Bar

Now and again there is a craving. The craving usually centers itself around candy. The candy is almost always chocolate and almost always with nuts, like whatchamacallit ™ Likely, something that can be picked up in a rush, impulsively.


Now and again there is a craving centering itself around cookies. More often than not the cookies are chocolate, with chips and sometimes, nuts. White chocolate, macadamia. Yum.

Not often, but at times a cookie candy-like combo craving is on the menu. And the cookie-candy-like option chosen most of those times is Twix ™ over Kit-Kat ™ especially the peanut butter or the java options.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I find it hard to resist chocolate in the form of candy, cookies or any combo there-of, which is why said products hardly ever appear on my grocery lists or are residing on a shelf, in a cupboard. For, the fact of the matter is, if I had them, I'd eat them. No craving required.

his say

first, let me wish myself a happy 4th birthday, since it seems like no one else around here is going to do it. i share a birth date with that tall fella that seems to be talking to himself all the time, though not in his normal voice. every time i ask what he's doing he replies, "i'm rehearsing." i'm not sure i know what that means and moreover i'm not sure i care.

i'm probably coming off as cranky, at the moment i am. but, let me assure you all under normal circumstances i'm not at all cranky. in fact, i'm the sweetest, most lovable bundle of fur you may ever meet.

seriously.

however, i'm a little put out at present because once again i'm being blamed for stuff falling off their perches. ok, i broke one figurine. ok, two . . . at least as far as eyewitnesses go. but, i have had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the fallen vase (s), toppled over bears (and what is the deal with all the stuffed bears, dogs, rabbits, and such?) and all the other assorted spills and mishaps. there is no evidence to suggest otherwise; only conjecture, hearsay, and innuendo. any evidence that might be presented is circumstantial, at best.

frankly, i think it is that diva dog doing all the dastardly deeds. in either case, barring any concrete evidence, i'm innocent until proven . . .

ok, all done. just wanted, needed to get that off my chest. now i can go back to being the sweet, lovable, bundle of fur you all should know and if you knew me, you'd love me.

seriously.

buttah

Number One Son

He came into the world in the usual way. Well, usual in that for centuries women were giving birth to babies. Baby boys, even. And in that way, usual as there was nothing extraordinary about his birth, except of course, that it was happening to me for the first time. Not a usual day for me. He arrived sooner than expected. The end of February was circled on the calendar. But, given that he began to make his move a couple of weeks early, he did have the patience to wait inside the womb until I reached the hospital. See, having gone into labor very late the night before, or rather very early that morning, I stalled until daybreak before calling the ambulance. Risky yes, but I didn't want to ride alone, in the dark. It worked out, he waited (another 4 hours in fact.)

I don't remember a birthday since his middle-school days where he didn't have a game, wasn't in rehearsals, or in performance. This year is no exception. He is in rehearsals for a play that opens on the twenty-seventh which was the 1982 circled "due date." Weird, that.

It doesn't, "seem like only yesterday" nor does it feel like twenty-nine years. Some days he's telling me a tale of one his many adventures, donning voices, making the telling an adventure onto itself. And somewhere in there, he'll make a gesture, fix an expression on his face, or affect a particular dialect and I'm transported back to that little boy with light in his eyes and chocolate on his face, fingers, and of course his shirt.

The light is still there as is the love of chocolate, though he is neater.

To my number one son, may twenty-nine be the best one yet and a gateway to bigger roles, paydays, whatever your heart desires and many more adventures.

Peace