The Tooth Fairy Better Not Screw Me Over

Do any of you guys remember two years ago, when my birthday lasted like six days and ended with boils? I didn't think it was possible but I think that one might be facing some stiff competition for the most ridiculous birthday ever.

I have been out of town all week busting my ass for the greater good, like usual, only extra hard. So hard, in fact, that I earned a sparkly tiara for my efforts, but that's a story for another day, except for the part where I put it on my head this morning so it wouldn't be crushed and then forgot about it and wore it to many usually tiara-free places. It DID seem like people were admiring me much more than usual, and some old geezer at the gas station told me I looked beautiful, so that worked out well. In fact, I think I might wear it all the time from now on.

I arrived home today with big plans to enjoy my birthday. A party, a Goodwill shopping spree: you know, all my favorite treats. The house was perfectly clean until I got there and lugged in about 8,000 pounds of work and 3,000 pounds of dirty laundry. Then, I took a nap and when I woke up all hell had broken loose. Shane was curled up on the bathroom floor, whimpering and surrounded by vomit. A trail of puke at least forty feet long and a disturbing red-orange color led from the kitchen, through the living room and down the hall. Meanwhile, Lloyd was yanking a loose tooth out of Weston's mouth with a pair of pliers. I guess he figured the whole carpet will have to be bleached anyway so a few more drops of blood won't make any difference.

It was all down hill from there, too. I cancelled my party in favor of popsicle shopping and the Magic School Bus. I'm still going to Goodwill, though. In my tiara. On deck tonight: 8,000 pounds of work, 9,000 pounds of yakked-on laundry, and a truly daunting volume of wine. I just hope that damn tooth fairy doesn't drink too much and fall asleep in her tiara again. I suppose she will be worthless when it comes to folding laundry, too. Happy Birthday to.... Oh, NEVER MIND!

Suckers

Haha, suckers! I am totally only writing today so I don't bust up my awesome consecutive string of posts. I might have cobbled together this many in a row before, maybe, in about 2009, back before I hit forty, when the fire could still fly from my fingertips on a regular basis, but it's pretty much unprecedented in the recent past. Dammit. That's all I've got. Well, I'll see what I can do. I might have to resort to pictures of brussels sprouts again. I'm not proud.

Work SUCKED today; I accidentally insulted this crusty old ex-colonel and then crashed the travel program on my computer after I spent approximately twelve hours planning a trip I'm not super enthusiastic about to start with. When I got home I saw on facebook I missed the birthday of one of my favorite people ever. Because I never, ever look at facebook at work. Sorry, Janelle! Actually, you know what? I never remember birthdays. It's one of my character flaws. I think it has to do with my whole Jehovah's Witness/Holiday aversion thing. That might be an excellent topic for another day, but I'm too tired and cranky to go there today.

Oh, I know! Once again, I need to address the issue of lies on here. Yesterday, at our early Thanksgiving party, one of my charming aunts informed me that sometimes she just skims my blog because she knows it's full of lies. It's just too outrageous to be true, she said. MY OWN AUNT! Can you believe that? I have talked about this before, multiple times, but a nice refresher is always good. Everything I put on here is basically true. Things will usually fall into one of several categories. Reports of events are always mostly true, but might be slightly exaggerated or embellished for effect. Hare-brained schemes, which are labeled with that category, are always straight out of my imagination, but are most often based on something that actually happened. Flat out lies are pretty obvious, like above where I said I never look at facebook at work. Also, if you'll notice, I have categories called 'lies' and 'true'. If you're wondering, you can always check the label. And, of course, you can always ask in the comments or email me at womanwithadeadcat (at) gmaildotcom.

And, finally, here's an example of a typical exaggeration, for future reference: After I posted this I received this question: 'Did they really lock you in your apartment when the President flew into Osan??' Now, the answer is no, they didn't really lock me in my apartment. Instead, they shot chloroform into my ductwork so I was unconscious for the whole event. But see, that's not quite as funny.

So there you have it, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, from a woman with a dead cat in her purse.

Seven

You know what they say, right? 'Show me a boy of seven and I'll show you the man'. By 'they', I mean St. Francis Xavier. I thought it was Aristotle, but I looked it up. I wish it WAS Aristotle because I didn't like everything I read when I looked up that Xavier guy. But hey, just because he did some creepy things doesn't mean he wasn't smart, right? I probably wouldn't like everything Aristotle ever did, either. In fact, he was kind of an asshole. Anyway, I hope St. Francis Xavier is right, because Weston, at almost seven, is AWESOME. This is a huge relief to me, because it means that I can't screw him up anymore now, and I have been waiting a long, long time for this day. Seven years!

I'm not a huge fan of childbragging, but this time I just can't stop myself from writing about how fantastic he is. You don't have to read it, though- I won't be offended. LOOK AWAY NOW. Of course, it goes without saying that he is too clever for words, and ever so attractive. He must take after me! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHA. Those things are great, but one of the things I appreciate the most about him is his spirit. He looks out for Shane, he likes to help with whatever we are doing, and yesterday he convinced me to go out and pick up litter in the neighborhood. In the pouring down rain. He's always the first to share, is always thinking of others, and often wraps up little presents for people. He sometimes sends his allowance to World Vision* to help fund wells in villages in Africa that don't have access to clean drinking water. He is full of hugs and kisses, and loves to take care of his enormous collection of 'babies' and stuffed animals, tucking them in and wrapping them in blankets. Isn't he FABULOUS?!?!?!?!? Okay, I'm done now. That wasn't TOO bad, was it?

I've written about when he was born before; you can read it by clicking here. It's a good story, and kind of funny, if you didn't have to live through it. Every word is true, too. But that was a long time ago. Seven years ago, in fact. Look at him now; I can't even believe it:

Happy Birthday, Weston!

*World Vision is an organization I have supported for a long time; they do a lot of great work all over the world. Recently, however, they have been involved in a court case that really disappointed me and I will probably send that money elsewhere in the future.

The Suckiest Birthday

Last year, I had the longest birthday ever. It was the day we came home from Korea. In the year that we've been back, we've battled boils, suffered a vicious 4th of July casualty followed by reconstructive surgery, endured multiple short stints in crash pads, moved into a tiny house with three large houseloads of goods consolidated from three different corners of the globe, bought a new-to-us car, adopted Henry, started a new job, began homeschooling and oh yeah, my mother died.

This year, for my birthday, I was looking forward to a nice quiet family party. Which we had, except for the quiet part. I felt like roadkill all weekend and didn't leave the house. I even had to lay on the couch while I was eating the delicious cake my sister made. That was a real bummer, let me tell you. I can't figure out if my malaise results simply from the crushing weight of my dead mother, or if I might also actually be physically ill. I suspect the latter, because I have also been having earaches, which require me to drip a concoction of sesame oil and garlic in there. It cures the earache quickly, but it gives me an insatiable craving for teriyaki. I guess I should be grateful it works so well and I haven't had to try the urine cure.

So! Another year down the drain, another birthday in the books. Thank God it only lasted 24 hours this year.