I'm all right man, keep your hands off my stash

Things have been a little tight lately.  Financially, I mean, although my clothes are also feeling a bit tight lately but I'm blaming THAT on water weight gain.  My blog, my excuse.  But back to financial issues.  The construction industry has been hit pretty bad by the economical situation so TheManTheMyth hasn't had much work and it's affecting the lifestyle I have become accustomed to.

But those days are about to make a 180 degree turn.  I am seeing a light at the end of the financial hardship tunnel and things are looking mighty fine.

You see, I have been Officially Informed, via e-mail, by the ATM Card Payment Center that my ATM CARD (since it's capitalized, that means it's legit) has been accredited in my favour, as directed authoritatively by Mr. President (Seriously, that's his actual name, "Mr. President"), FBI and other foreign bodies (David Beckham?  I hope it's David Beckham because he's got a nice foreign body.  A VERY nice foreign body).


And, this is the good part, my ATM CARD is authorized to withdraw $5,000.00 in American dollars (North or South America?) every day!  If I withdraw $5,000 out of the ATM, using my ATM CARD every day, in one year that adds up to, lemme see, carry the one, $1,825,000.00!  I can pay off my house, pay for college for Things 1 and 2, buy a new car and best of all, finally get my very own Skee Ball game!  I'm practically GIDDY at the thought!  I mean, who wouldn't want their very own Skee Ball game?


But before I can receive my ATM CARD and start withdrawing my $5K a day (Hey!  That rhymes!), I have to stop any further communication with Persons and Offices who have been discouraging and delaying me from receiving my ATM CARD (all those naysayers who keep trying to "warn" me that this notice is a fraud.  Right.  Like I believe THAT.  They just want to try and steal MY money.  Well, back OFF; this money is MINE).


It turns out that there are Non-Officials and Impostors in the Bank who are thwarting my attempt to secure the release of the fund (Wait.  "Fund?"  As in singular?  I thought there were FundS, as in plural.) to me.  Mr. President is advicing (his words) me that such an illegal act like this have to stop since he's decided to bring a lasting solution to my problem.


Phew!  I am so glad that Mr. President has my best financial interests at heart.  He just wants to help me receive my fund.  And all I have to do to expedite my ATM CARD is to send him my names (Karizma Stolichnaya among others), fax numbers (I'm sure it's so they can fax me my ATM CARD) and the number of the bank account I want to transfer my fund to along with proof of identity (Um, this is me.  Duh).

Once I send Mr. President everything he requires, I'm confident that my ATM CARD will be faxed to me right away and I can begin living a life of Luxury and Status.  The downside to all of this is I'm anticipating previously unknown relatives crawling out of the woodwork once word of my largess gets out.  Yeah, good luck there; you're not getting any of my money "Cousin Luther."  

Now if you'll excuse me, I must start calling Skee Ball suppliers.  

Happy Kelly Birthday

Well, well, well.  It turns out my kvetching about my lack of a birthday party as a child (boo frickety hoo, right?) paid off.

For starters, my son, my wonderful son, used some of the money he received for HIS birthday and surprised his mommy with this:

How wonderful is that?  Just when I'm ready to throw him back in the water, he does something that makes me say, "Ok, you can still live in the house" because now that he's 18 and an Adult, we can legally tell him "Don't let the door hit ya on your way out!" if he screws up.  Which he won't do because he really is a great kid.  I do love my little boy.  He drives me nuts sometimes but I love him to pieces.

So, my friend Bubbles calls me up on Friday to tell me that if I'm not doing anything on Sunday (yesterday) around 3:00pm, I might want to mosey on over to my sister's house.

So I get to the house and there's balloons everywhere which make for a party atmosphere.  We're having a lovely visit, talking Girl Talk, ok actually, we were talking Middle Age Menopause Talk but hey, it's the camaraderie that counts.  

And then, something happens beyond my wildest dreams.  Bubbles, my friend Bubbles, who reads my blog and knows how to shut me up when I'm kvetching, produces my birthday gift.  A pinata!!!  I think I squealed.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I did.

We head outside for the pinata bashing

and of course I wasn't allowed to couldn't break open poor Jorge (we named the pinata Jorge) so young Sean (Bubbles' son) and Thing 2 both took turns whacking Jorge with a hockey stick because that was the only weapon we had on hand 

and finally Thing 2 struck a mortal blow (she is an Official Pinata Breaker and is available for Children's parties) 

 and candy went flying everywhere, thus setting off a mad scramble for the candy

And it was Good Candy, too!   None of that cheap, icky hard candy that nobody wants.  There was Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Kit Kats, Nerds, ropes of bubblegum, Skittles, Smarties, etc.

After the massacre of Jorge, we went back in the house where we marveled over my birthday cake, lovingly baked by Thing 2 with my BIL adding the inscription

 We played an impromptu game of batting a balloon around and the rule was it couldn't hit the floor.  Even Coco

joined in the fun.  The balloon would float down toward her and she'd hit it up with her nose to continue the fun.  However, Coco was the first to let the balloon hit the floor so she was out and she was not happy about being the first one out of the game.  She's not a Gracious Loser, is Coco.


All in all, it was the best birthday party I've ever had and now I can stop carping AND kvetching about never having had a birthday party.  I can put it in a bubble and blow it away.

"Happy Kelly Birthday"