Warm Holiday Wishes

Holiday Greetings to all bloggers, blog readers and general lurkers!

Though my postings have been scarce these last couple of months, I am fully committed to keeping this little blog concern going.  I expect to be more fully engaged in the writing and reading process after the new year.  In the interim, I am taking a look back at 2010 and offering you my best wishes, through a retrospective of blog postings.  I hope all of you have the best holiday season ever and start the new year off with good health, good friends and a happy family.  But most of all, I wish that you . . .

Have zero encounters with a knotted anus.

Find at least one note on the toilet.

Have the wisdom of a silver tabby cat.

Take at least one trip to someplace new and exciting.

See a couple of totally bitchin concerts.

Spend quality time with all the wonderfully crazy relatives and friends that you can possibly handle.


All the best to you and yours.  See you in the new year.

Love,
DG

Parenting Fail or Epic Win? Only the Toilet Knows for Sure.

I walked into the powder room last night and lifted the lid of the bowl to find a note written on a piece of construction paper. It was a strange feeling to see the written word on the toilet and I wondered for a split second whether this was going to be some sort of ransom note for the last roll of toilet paper (a commodity worthy of extortion, to be sure).  But no, a recent purchase of a case of the stuff ensured that this was not about a hostage situation.

The note was written in blue pen on purple paper, a cruel trick to middle aged eyes, to be sure.  I squinted to read it under the light of the bathroom sconces.  This is what it said:

"If you are reading this, you're probably about to go pee or poo.  I honestly don't know about your personal life.  Well, anyways, good luck.  Have fun.

Love and scones,
daughter"

How did I react?  Well if you guessed that I marched out of the bathroom and gave her a stern warning about people's privacy and whatnot then this is either your first time here or you haven't been paying attention.  I gave her what every comedienne wants; laughter and lots of it.  I am, after all, the person who at the same age, found my father's high school year book and wrote the following:

"Have a great summer.  Eat spam.

Good peace,
Gooch"

I had no idea this stuff was genetic.