August 17, 1991: My family is on a Scandinavian cruise with some family friends. It's my mother's birthday. At dinner that night, the waiter doesn't give me a menu. I ask my brother for his after he's finished looking. He won't give it to me. I repeat myself over and over, progressively louder and louder. I'm escorted back to our cabin and left there to think about what I did while the rest of the family continues the celebrating and merriment, and, it could probably go without mentioning, the eating of dinner. Whoopsies, looks like I ruined Mom's birthday!
December 25, 1999: I'm a freshman in college and I decide to tell my parents during a delicious beef tenderloin Christmas dinner that I've taken to drinking and that I'm a party star. To take the attention off of myself, I throw my sister under the bus. "She likes to party, too--she corrupted me." (We went to college together). What kind of a sick, sick individual ruins Jesus's birthday celebration? What is my problem?
August 17, 2006: My husband and I have flown home to celebrate my mom's birthday. It's a big one. That morning, I am taken to the ER in an ambulance and that evening, I have surgery. Mom spends the big five-oh by my side. Ruth's Chris reservations: cancelled. Oopsie-daisies, I've done it again!
July 6, 2007: I'm at my parents' home on an extended visit, as my husband is in Iraq, I'm 7 months pregnant, and I had quit my job. It's my dad's birthday. After dinner and before cake and presents, my mom and I decide to take my dog on a walk. I want to walk through the neighborhood. Mom wants to walk on the golf course behind their house. We discuss back and forth, Mom wins, and we walk on the golf course. It's evening--there probably aren't any golfers. Oh, hold the phone, there are golfers! One of them tees off and the ball hits me right in the middle of my back. OW! I turn around, shock on my face. I imagine the guy that hit the ball is going to get a lot of ribbing from his friend later about hitting a very pregnant woman with his ball, but I'm not ready to laugh. In fact, I begin sobbing. I run back to the house as fast as my cankles will carry me and I spend the rest of the evening sobbing in my childhood bedroom, big crocodile tears streaming down my swollen cheeks. What is my problem? The hormones, maybe? Anyway, looks like I've done it again. Sorry, Dad!
November 13, 2009: Payback time. Luke got me good!
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So, what did my sweet innocent BFF do to you??
ReplyDeleteYeah, what did he do??
ReplyDeleteOh, he just turned his terrible twos up to the highest volume. Made horrific scenes everywhere we went. That sort of thing. Don't take his side, Mere, or you're asking for it from Jackson!
ReplyDeleteI just wish I had known you ruined Jesus's birthday! This is really going to change our friendship.
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