Today is The Buddha’s birthday. He’s officially a teenager now. Thirteen. *sigh*
This means he is eligible for being locked up in that cave on the outskirts of town until he becomes fit for human company again.
There are times when he is fun, funny, warm, caring, witty and charming. Then there are those other times. Those times when he is “talking” and all I can hear are the howls of wild animals and all I can see are the jumping flames of his campfire reflected off the cave walls. Then he turns back into that sweet kid again and the howling beasts are just the puppies playing and the campfire is really just the sun.
Teenage years are a schizophrenic time. Lord I need some severe counseling to get me through it this time! I’m not near young enough to be doing this again!
But I digress. The birthday went well today. It was just a small family thingie. We had food from the new Taco Hell/KFC, to quote MDH, who took Buddha there to get dinner. MDH has a hate/hate relationship with KFC anyway. He can’t tolerate the fact that you can get chicken nuggets at any fast food joint in town except the one place that sells chicken exclusively. It chaps his ass in the extreme. I guess now they will have an excuse. They will be too busy making all those burritos & tacos to have time for nuggets.
He got a few gifts that he liked. His faves were the digi camera and the digi photo album. The first picture he put in there was one of the only ones we have left of his baby brother, who died. That thing paid for itself that instant.
Princess Bella was suitably jealous and grumpy. She hates it when it’s not all about her. I feel her. I always did too on my brothers’ birthdays. There was only one of me and three of them and I had to wade through all of their birthdays before I got to mine. I always felt the good stuff dwindling away as their birthdays went by. It seemed like there wouldn’t be any good stuff left for me by the time MY birthday came around.
I blew up helium balloons, laughed like evil Donald Duck when I inhaled it, put up a banner, etc, etc. It was fun. And thank goodness it’s over. Now I can go back to being a slacker-grandma.
I had a thought today while I was watching the news: Why is it that we carry around hand sanitizer by the 55 gallon drum, but the new trend is to kiss each other? WTF is up with that? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose? I mean, if I don’t want to get all infested with your germs, then do I really want your mouth on my face, for God’s sake? I think not!
I’m not even one of the super dooper hyper clean germophobes and I still don’t want folks slobbering all over my damn cheeks! It’s just nasty. I reserve that for my family and a very very few super close friends. And the friends are only under the mistletoe at Christmas when I’m drunk. Or at a party under pretend mistletoe when I’m drunk. *giggle* I’m just kidding.
And sometimes babies, although if I were the baby’s parents I wouldn’t want people slobbering all over my baby either. It just seems like a bad idea. I mean, here they are, zero, no built up immunity yet, and some joker with the plague decides to come play smoochie face with them. YUK! Note to all my friends with new babies: I will hold your baby, I will make goofy faces at your baby, I will get down on the floor and play with your baby on their level, I will talk to your baby in their own language, I will even cry with your baby (this is the brain damage, pay no attention), but I will not-I repeat-I will NOT kiss all over their face. End of announcement.
P.S. I will also try very hard not to let them suck on my fingers, because (again-the brain damage) I have no idea where I’ve been.