|You want me to show you my what?|
First, I want to say thank you to all of you who read and added to discussions of last night's post about misogynist language. And especially thank you to those who shared the link on Facebook. That's one of the highest honors for a blogger, and it lets me know I said something worthwhile.
Apparently nobody else knows what "wolf-titted" means, so I'm going to have to let go of that one. So far as I know, the one thing Hillary Clinton hasn't been accused of is making porn or even sexting naked photos of herself. In other words, I don't know of anybody who's seen her breasts and can judge their wolfiness. Bill's keeping mum on the issue, as well he should. He's probably still in time-out for his own sexcapades.
|My tits? Seriously? Ha! Ha! Ha! No, really. Go on. Ask me again.|
Come closer and ask me again.
Although I can't persuade Coraline that it's over, we have celebrated our birthday week to the fullest. And I'm done. Or maybe I've just run out of friends who want to buy me dinner. She still hasn't heard from one of her grandpas, so she's holding out for the full week (Thursday to Thursday), but I'm done. I will probably break my scale after tonight's final birthday dinner with my kids of genuine Mexican burritos, fresh sweet corn cooked in my new Instant Pot pressure cooker, and Dairy Queen ice cream cake.
When I went down to the basement freezer to put the ice cream away, I found part of my basement was flooded. Apparently when the furnace guy came last winter to repair the furnace, he unplugged the AC pump, and it's been hot enough here the past week even I have turned on the AC. Fortunately Drake was here to get his handi-penis next to it and now it's working just fine.
He's also going to help me rebuild my back porch, once I get permission from the historic somethingorother, because I can't make any exterior changes to my house without a special permit. That's his birthday present to me. My daughter Elvira gave me wine. My kids know what's important.
I've suffered through some pretty miserable birthdays in the past, mostly when I was married and had expectations. But some that were lonely because I didn't make anything happen when I could have. This year I decided to be more proactive, and as you might have predicted, it turns out I didn't have to be lonely or alone on my birthday.
Lesson learned. Too many blessings to count this year. In fact, I stayed so busy I still haven't thanked people individually on Facebook for their birthday wishes. Happy birthday to me. Being happy is exhausting.