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    Sending out prayers and well wishes

    November 30, 2005

    Tomorrow morning (Thursday), one of the Boo’s friends is having brain surgery. He is only 8 months old. The prognosis is good, but, as with all surgery, there are risks. Please keep him in your thoughts or prayers–whatever is your thing.

    We love you, buddy.

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    Hanging out with A & S, with the perfect view of Mt. Rainier

    November 29, 2005

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    Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

    When your best friend’s mother’s lazy-ass-two-timing-no-good-rat-bastard-cheating-manipulating-rotten-verbally-abusive-did-I-forget-to-tell-you-for-the-first-YEAR-that-we-were-dating-that-I-have-a-wife-oops-maybe-I-should-have-brought-that-up-in-one-of-our-conversations boyfriend promises that he really is going to leave his wife but he wants to wait until January first, I would not recommend saying either of the following:

    1. Has your mother developed a crank habit of which we have been unaware, and

    2. What does he want? To use her one more year to get a break on the taxes?

    Even the longsuffering may falter in a moment such as this.

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    Pike Place Market, Seattle

    November 28, 2005

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    The detox is going to be painful

    It has been a long day here at Chateau Cookie. The Boo sprouted yet another tooth AND also realized that his reign of supremacy may be over. Both things have been a difficult transition for him and for his mother.

    For four days last week, a variety of relatives practically went to blows with one another to capture the attention and smiles of the Boo. I watched in stunned silence as the Boo held court, granting a small laugh here or a big smile there. Much to the amusement of his grandparents, great aunt and uncle and Derek’s cousins, he entertained all and heckled those that dared turn a back to him, if only for a brief second.

    I spent four days in a panic, realizing that I was becoming one of those parents that is so happy to have someone else look after her child that she may even be deemed disinterested in him. He fell over–“ah, he’s fine.” He cried in hunger and lunged at someone’s plate–“yeah, you can give him crab. What the hell.”

    Of course now he thinks he is entitled to be held 24/7. What do I look like? Am I here for your amusement? The kid is driving me crazy (cue Britney). I’m sorry to say, Mister, but you are NOT the center of the universe. At least not anymore.

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    Things not to say/do on vacation with your in-laws

    November 27, 2005

    1. When your father-in-law is moaning about the price of gas at $2.29 a gallon and his little yellow light on the dashboard is on, don’t say “isn’t $2.29 cheaper than a tow truck?”

    2. In the middle of dinner when your father-in-law continues to fill up your husband’s glass with red wine, don’t say “you probably should stop doing that because you might need a part of his liver some day.”

    3. Do not follow your in-laws into their hotel room 2 minutes behind them without knocking on the door, even if they know you are coming. You may find your father-in-law climbing into his bed. If you do, do not (and I cannot stress this enough) shriek loudly and go running from the room. We’re all adults, for heaven’s sake.

    4. Do not cover your ears and start humming when the discussion goes south and suddenly you are in mixed company with your mother-in-law discussing the conceiving of your husband. There is no song loud enough to drown out the phrase, “and I was so horny I borrowed money and took a train across country to meet Derek’s father.” I know they did it at least once, and I am VERY glad for them, but I really don’t need to hear about it.

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