they don't stay puppies long...

today the boy, the oldest boy, turns 25. is that old? i mean, it's only 3.7(ish) in dog years... so it doesn't really seem all that old to me, but the way mommy's moping around, you'd think 25 was ancient, which makes mommy, i guess, ancient-er. how can my child be 25? she whines. more to the point, how can my child be 25, and still live at home??? i know he's in school, but yeesh-ka-bob, have i taught him nothing about independence??? why, when i was 25, i was finished with school and out on the road singin' in a band! traveling! all over the northwest! and canada! (this is where she launches into a whole thing about the band she was in, and all the funny things she did while they were on the road, including, but not limited to, attending a gay festival in spokane, washington, where she and another band member went disco-ing with the queen of the ball... literally, he was crowned festival 'queen' at their gay festival pageant, and his name was carol. but, once again, i digress). oh, my socks and soup spoons! (this, kids, is a very obscure reference to one of mommy's all-time favorite childhood books, don't ask...) shouldn't my gorgeous/ brilliant oldest boy be making his way into the world? and, while he's at it, earning lots and lots and lots of money in order to take care of me and daddy in our old age, which is, according to my calculations, now???

this goes on (and on and on) for quite a little bit, but, once she's finished yipping about the fact that the boy is still trying to figure out what he wants to be when he grows up (grows up? up? for chrissake, he's freakin' 6 foot 3... how goddam grown up does he want to be??), she gets a little misty-eyed, and starts reminiscing about "the good old days", when he was still the fruit of her womb... you know i used to run 3-6 miles a day when i was pregnant with him? in fact, i went out for a run the very morning he was born. (and, no, she did not run to the hospital... tho' to hear her tell it, she could have). his dad (her ex) was so freaking worried i'd have that baby on super bowl sunday... but since i wasn't due until february, i kept trying to reassure him that that wasn't gonna happen. imagine his surprise--and mine--when, 2 days before super bowl sunday--not to mention 3 weeks before my due date--my water broke! boy was he (the ex) pissed. i think he even tried to talk me into staying in the hospital until the following monday, but i can't be sure. (he didn't) still, that boy was such a sweet beautiful baby... and such a good baby... and now he's all grown up. grown up, and still living at home. why is that?? have i taught him nothing??? (she really hasn't).

moving right along... i'm so cotton-spitting bored talking about mom whining about the boy blah blah blah... can i get down to the really good part of today, please?? and by "good", you know i mean the, mmmm.... cake part of the boy's birthday celebration, right? now, while this is a delicious topic by my way of thinking, trust me, as far as mommy's concerned, there's much more to it than a simple, tasty, frosting-coated confection. you see, manymanymany years ago, mommy started, what she now refers to as, a stupid hellish family tradition she likes to call: the cheesy birthday cake. basically, the cbc involves the aforementioned frosting-coated confection adorned with some kind of cheesy (read crappy) decoration -- which is really all a non-artist kind of cake decorator can hope to do. and, mommy, my friends, is most definitely a non-artist kind of cake decorator. as you might imagine, because of this ritual, mommy has come to dread "birthday season" more than just about any time of the year. but, she started this stupid hellish family tradition for the sake of the boys, and she's bound and determined to keep it going for as long as her fingers can wrap around a crummy tube of decorating frosting or until one of the boys leaves home, whichever comes first. since, as i've already mentioned, one boy turns 25 today, and the other will be 22 in march, my money's on mommy's fingers. but don't tell her i said that. here are a few examples of cheesy birthday cakes... in case you've never seen one:

on the right is the cake mommy did for #2 boy's birthday last year.

the cake above is adorned with what's supposed to be towelly...from an episode of south park (who was, according to cartman, the "worst character ever"). how lame is that? and yet, mommy, daddy, and the 2 boys laughed and laughed and laughed. i just don't get it...but then, i don't have to.

last year mommy's wrist was still mending from a bad break... so she kind of globbed all the frostings together, then told the boy it was supposed to be psychedelic... we all thought it looked like shit.

and, finally, the picture on this cake (to the left) was supposed to be... me! HAHAHAHA! poor poor delirious mommy... don't tell her i laughed, okay?

i know i know. i suppose i should cut mommy some slack, i'm not certain it's always easy having the boys around day in and day out, tho' mommy and daddy don't always seem to mind. come to think of it, i've actually heard 'em say on more than one occasion they don't stay puppies long. tho', when i look at these two goofballs, i'm not so sure...

Homer: "No beer and no TV makes Homer something something.'

Marge: "Go Crazy?"

Homer: "Don't mind if I do!"

~ The Simpsons (one of the birthday boy's favorite quotes)