Happy Birthday Big Sexy "Bob"

I am not sure why my name is in quotes, perhaps because it isn't a proper name like Big Sexy.

This cake serves as my sole birthday present from my mother, father and little brother. The sticker indicated the original price to be $12.87, however that number is crossed out and to the side discount is hand written.

I should be grateful regardless of the amount spent, although I do hope the cake cost more than a McDonald's value meal - or at the very least, I hope it wasn't scavenged from the dumpster.

I am glad she didn't, too.

Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty (and my birthright) in the following conversation.


Mom: You won't believe what happened last weekend?

Me: What?

Mom: Sarah (her sister, my aunt) was going to call the police on Timmy and Chris (Sarah's sons.)

Me: Why?

Mom: They wouldn't share a line of coke with her.

Me: very uncomfortable pause

Mom: But I talked her out of it. What was she going to tell the police, "my sons won't share their cocaine with me."

Me: even more uncomfortable pause

Mom: I am so glad that I didn't do drugs with my children.

Me: most uncomfortable pause ever

Happy Birthday, Mom!

My mother turned 49 years young on Friday. She went out with her younger sister to celebrate. Today, while at her belated birthday dinner, we shared the following conversation.

Mom: I didn't have a very good birthday.

Me: Why?

Mom: Well...I was driving around with (my sister) Sarah and....

Me: And?

Mom: I shit my pants.

Me: You what?

Mom: I thought it was just fart but I shit instead. All over.

Me: between bouts of laughter You don't know how timely this discussion really is. Anyway, it isn't' a big deal. I shit in my hand; you shit in your pants. It is in the genes so to speak. Or at least in your jeans.

Mom: Fuck you. I want to go home.

Me: Can I write about this?

Mom: stares daggers in my direction

She didn't say no, now did she.