to moms everywhere

Mom on a toy horse ​

Once upon a time, I decided that for Mother’s Day, I would dredge up some amusing story about my mother to share with everyone (including her.)  Something that would bring laughter, and maybe a few tears.  But as I combed my brain for all the funny moments that would be appropriate (as in wouldn’t get me in big trouble with Mom) I came to the realization that there are just far too many stories to tell.  I decided it might be fun to just mash them together and pull out a few special moments from my childhood.  And then I decided I’d repost it every year and add just one more to the list.

So here goes…

Dear Mom,

Thank you for teaching me why it is bad to put a cat into the washing machine. (Especially when it is full of hot soapy water and cloth diapers.)

Thank you for putting the marshmallow peeps and black jelly beans in my Easter basket every year to keep me from eating too much candy! And thank you for eating all of the candy I didn’t like so it didn’t go to waste.

Thank you for learning how to sew so you could make my clothes for me when I was little.  And thank you for using the rick rack trim because it still makes me laugh to say "rick rack."

Thank you for cutting my hair when I was little.  And thank you for taking pictures of me with the terrible haircuts so I can prove how bad they really were. (And oh my God! They were bad!)

Thank you for always making my birthday a special day all on its own, even though it falls just a few days after Christmas.

Thank you for never making me eat liver and onions even though it was your favorite.

Thank you for watching the Wizard of Oz with me every year, even though you were afraid of the wicked witch.

Thank you for letting me believe in Santa Claus long past the age most kids did. And then letting me help you keep the secret from my younger sister so I could pretend for just a few more years.

Thank you for eating the pickles in my McDonald’s hamburgers because you knew I didn't like them, even though you didn't like them either.

Thank you for teaching me how to bandage a wound using toilet paper and scotch tape. (I still use this invaluable method to this day.)

Thank you for knowing how to bake everything from scratch even though you don’t like to cook.

Thank you for making sure I had the best Halloween costume every year. And thank you for teaching me that sometimes the best costume is the one you made from scratch.

Thank you for teaching me that it’s okay to like younger men.

Thank you for teaching me that you don’t have to be a good dancer to have a whole lot of fun doing it. (Same goes for karaoke…but thank you for not giving me your singing genes.)

Thank you for going to karaoke with me, and thank you for getting up there to sing just so we could laugh at your singing.

Thank you for making sure I knew at a very young age that it was ok to draw pictures of my parents, but only if they were wearing clothes.

Thank you for introducing me to the music of Elvis Presley and the Jackson 5.

Thank you for letting me make my own mistakes sometimes, even though you could have stopped me.

Thank you for teaching me how to back up the car. (Oh wait, never mind, that was Dad.)

Thank you for showing me that it’s perfectly ok to send your eggs back (in a restaurant) until they get them right. Even if they never really get them right.

Thank you for telling the very best dirty jokes.

Thank you for cheating at board games to remind us that life isn’t always fair.

Thank you for being a nurse so I have someone to call at two in the morning when I think something is terribly wrong with me, and thank you for telling me it’s probably just gas.

Thank you for knowing how to draw blood so you could tell the nurses how to do it when it was my turn to have blood taken.

Thank you for being strong enough to survive the things that would have killed weaker people.  And thank you for flipping the bird at us while you were on a ventilator so we could find some humor in a scary situation.

Thank you for teaching me that being a good mother doesn't always mean being a perfect mother, and some mistakes can be happy accidents.

Thank you for making sure I knew all the best dirty jokes.

To all you mothers out there…have a Happy Mother’s Day!

the great cottage cheese blight of 2013

After spending the bulk of the day whining about my empty refrigerator, I went to the grocery story this evening.​ I filled my cart with the requisite bread, milk, cereal, and assorted other things--yes, there may have been chocolate in there too--before rounding the dairy aisle to grab yogurt and cheese. That's when I saw it...the cottage cheese aisle. I brought my cart to a screeching halt and stared, open mouthed at the bare shelf in front of me.

Every other shelf in the section was filled to the brim. Fresh yogurt galore, more dip than you could shake a chip at, enough ricotta to stuff every shell in the joint, and so much sour cream I had a bad taste in my mouth, but only three tubs of cottage cheese. Three. The entire store had been cleaned out of cottage cheese. As if some sort of strange apocalypse was approaching and they were expecting a cottage cheese shortage. A blight. The great cottage cheese blight of 2013. Why, this could be almost as bad as the run on the banks back in '29!

I watched over my shoulder as I grabbed all three tubs, convinced someone would jump out at me, demanding me to share. Luckily, I got out of the aisle without a fight, but not without checking the expiration dates (and I'm happy to report there was plenty of freshness left).

I asked the cashier if she had any clue what would cause a run on cottage cheese on the last Friday night in May, in the Blue Ridge mountains, but she was as clueless as me. At least I managed to get what I needed. Someone was going home tonight without. And that will be a sad someone, I have no doubt.

Until the next time...I'll be eating my cottage cheese with a smile.​

an apple a day

I had this really amazing blog I wrote for today. It was witty, and fresh, and so very me. It was going to delight and astound all who read it. ​

And then my stupid laptop cleared the screen (without my permission) erasing every single word (without saving) thereby dashing my hopes for an academy award in blogging. And causing me to spew forth a stunning display of vulgar language worthy of the best 4th of July spectacular.

My husb...I mean, my imaginary dead president (IDP for short) has threatened to record my frequent laptop rants and splice them into a YouTube video. He says it would be quite entertaining. I say (insert vulgar language here). The problem is not me. The problem is my inferior laptop. A machine that has been defective almost since the day I got it. The problem is I was resistant to buy a Mac. Oh, yes...that's the problem!

But I know what has to be done. I have to start saving up for the new MacBook Pro. It's not cheap. It's not even reasonable. But apparently, it's the one to have...the laptop of champions. I don't know all the specifications, I let my tech savvy IDP handle those things for me. I just show up and write. And apparently, one needs the proper tools to write.

I have to admit, I'll miss the old laptop. We fought often, and we fought hard, but it got me through some pretty tough spots. We did edits on my book together. We came up with several projects together. It cleared my screen during most of them, forcing me to come up with new, even better ideas. But it was always there...running out of battery just when I needed it. Blue screen of death at the most inopportune moments. Yes...we had a nice run, stupid freaking laptop. But your days are numbered!

Until the next time...I'll be taking donations!​

Katie bonus

I gave you a bonus Cooper scene last week. So here's a bonus Katie scene for this week...enjoy!

This takes place after Katie throws back her last shot in Chapter 2...

(May contain minor spoilers if you haven't read past chapter 2...you've been warned!)​

The song had ended, and as I struggled to put the microphone back on the stand, I realized the crowd was giving me a standing ovation.  Of course, almost everyone was already standing by the bar.  No matter…I felt popular.

With a quick peek at my table, I tucked my hair behind my ears. Cooper was still there, wedged between June and Vicky. He had his head thrown back, laughing at something Vicky said, no doubt. My eyebrows pulled together in a tight furrow and my bottom lip pushed out on its own. She was flirting with him…the bitch. 

With a sudden determination, fueled by what could only be jealousy, I pushed my way through the thick crowd of people surrounding the bar, desperate to reach Cooper before Vicky dragged him into the night to have her wicked way with him. I teetered on my heels as the champagne and those four—or was it five shots I drank—finally caught up to me.  The closer I got, the more my head spun, and I couldn’t feel the tip of my nose anymore. 

Focus, Katie! 

I gave my head a little shake, which in hindsight was probably not the best idea. It did the opposite of my intention, making the room spin faster as I attempted to weave through the sea of people without much luck.

A crowd had formed around a pair of tattooed guys in black tees as they locked their elbows and joined hands to arm wrestle at their high top table. Someone brushed by me and touched my butt—more like grabbed it and squeezed with both hands—making me spin around with a squeal. When I turned back, I bumped into a large sweaty body planted between me and the only open path to my table. 

“You were great!” he slurred, gulping a mouth full of margarita straight from the pitcher. “How about you come home with me tonight and sing into my microphone?” 

Gross! “Um…I really need to get through so I can rejoin my friends.”  I pointed to my friends across the room, using the pathetic girl face I’d mastered, strictly for emergencies.

This guy was apparently immune to it. “Can’t I be your friend?”  He leaned in way too far and put a grubby hand on my back. 

I decided then and there I didn’t need any new friends.  What was so great about friends anyway?  Six was plenty.  I stepped backwards just a little too quickly and wobbled for a second before falling into the lap of a man sitting at the bar. 

Did I say lap?  Well, not really into his lap, per se.  The guy was sitting on a bar stool so it was more like falling between his legs and against his crotch. I counted the seconds as I worked to extract myself from this excruciatingly awkward position. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to right myself.  Some romance heroine I would be.  I couldn’t even manage to stay upright walking across a room.

The stranger seemed to enjoy every second I spent with the back of my head pressed against his chest and my hips caught between his muscled thighs.

“Um, could you help me?”  I tried to laugh at my predicament, but I could feel something thick and hard rubbing against my backside and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a flashlight.  

“I’m perfectly happy with the way things are.”  He laughed, giving a little wiggle of his hips to punctuate the sentiment, shifting the air until a heavy waft of his cologne burned my nose.

A flash of fear sent chills up my spine. He had no intention of letting me go just yet.  This was it. I knew it. I was about to be raped and murdered by a man who wore Old Spice.

Just then, a large hand slid across my shoulder hauling me upright.

“Fun’s over buddy,” Cooper growled. He gripped each of my arms, turning me to face him.  “Are you ok, Kate?” 

I nodded, too close to tears to say anything. 

“Ok, come on. Let’s get back to the table.”  His voice softened and his arm tucked around my waist as he steered me through the throng.

“You were so brave,” I finally choked out.

“Brave, huh?”  He chuckled as we slid into the booth.

“Did you see Cooper rescue me from the drunk at the bar?”  I blurted.

“Honey, I think you’re the drunken one.”  Silvia flashed her smug grin again and winked at Cooper. 

“I am not drunk.”  I rolled my eyes and tried to laugh it off.  I may not have a lot of experience with alcohol, but I figured it was safe to say I was pretty drunk. I couldn’t feel my nose or my fingertips anymore. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Everything went a little fuzzy before fading completely to black.

​