Good Morning Gentle Readers,
The House Blond is off to Disneyland to spend her birthday at the Happiest Place on Earth with a coupla friends. Before Mrs TWC whisked her off in the Hamster Car, I whipped out an order of from-scratch Frog Toast, which happens to be one of her faves.
Katie shares her birthday with Mexico (no, Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexican Independence Day), Lauren Snell, legendary bluesman (come on, you can’t say bluesperson, it sounds idiotic) B. B. King, and jazz great Charlie Byrd. And, as it turns out, September 16 is the most likely day of the year to come into the world. Christmas Day? Least likely (go figure).
As a fourteen year old freshman I think it's the right time to tell her that Aunt Laura is right, boys are from hell. Good thing she's running cross country this year. Maybe keep her one step ahead of the boys from hell.
Fourteen years ago last night, Mrs TWC quietly dragged me out of bed because she CLAIMED she was having a baby. She hadn't even packed THE BAG. We hastily threw (literally) some stuff together and careened down the hill to the hospital some 30 miles distant. Despite driving like a madman there was no police escort, because there's never a cop around when you need one.
Miraculously, as the clock approached zero-dark-thirty, my Renaissance Girl abruptly plopped into this world. The doctor handed me something sharp that you can't bring in your carry on bag. I hacked (again, literally) her umbilical cord off with a scalpel.....Dr Byrne gave me some crap about being a wuss, but it is surprising how tough that thing really is.
Later in the day The Boy would ask.....if it's Katie's birthday.....where's her birthday hat at?
The Wine Commonsewer
Tip of the glass to Lauren Snell for the NYT birthday list