Monday, October 3, 2011

The Sleepy Fork Incident

Morning Readers,

     Today I'm writing to you in the dark. Normally, I do my writing the day before, but, at Husband's suggestion, I've risen before the sun and begun typing in the "quiet morning hours". The only problem is that  writing requires a certain amount of organized thought, and I've just recently discovered I don't have at 6:30am. While I was passed out, face down, all my organization drooled onto my pillow. Which is why I'm also in my bathrobe listening to Sunny and Cher, staring at our roll of paper towels. I suppose I would've slept a little better if I hadn't been reflecting on my previous day's events....

     Ok, I fell asleep for a second there, but it's not that I don't find all of you charming an attractive. I'm fairly sure I've got the letter "U" printed on my forehead though. Now I remember. Yesterday we were at my nephew and niece's baptism. Yes, that was it. Wait...back up. We were having breakfast before the baptism. Butch was on my hip while I shoveled breakfast casserole in him. Then this happened...

     "Hold on, Honey, I'll get you a bite." Intent on showing my plastic fork who was boss, I slammed it into the casserole. And then I heard the *snap* and watched half of it fly through the air, sail accross the counter and stick squarely to the back of a family member.

     "Ma?" Butch held out his hand for more eggs.

     "Hold on, baby." I crept over and looked at the prong stuck to the poor girl's shoulder blades. I smiled. "Hold still." Plucking the the piece of plastic off her back, I held it out and laughed nervously. ", my fork was stuck to your back."

     "It was?"

     I didn't have the heart to tell her the thing had shot off my plate so fast I thought I'd be arrested for homicide. Up until yesterday, I was almost positive you couldn't shoot someone with a fork...but I'm wrong 87% of the time.

     "I read your blog all the time." She grinned.

     "I hope you don't think I go around shooting all my Readers with forks."

     She laughed and I went back to feeding Butch with half a fork...

     Readers, with my last coherent thought today, I promise to do my best never to shoot you with a fork, if I meet you in person. I make no promises about spoons or fondu utensils..

Ok, time to weigh in with embarrassing family gathering moments. I need coffee, intravenously, stat...