Family

Ahhhh, my first blog.   Dipping my toe into one of the most vulnerable thing you can do.

So I thought when you start writing a blog, that you talk about yourself first.  That shite is boring.  So I thought I would introduce you to our current family drama.

See I’m the youngest (and smart-ass-iest) of six.  Four originals and two steps.  This is the perfect formula for disaster for any family event!  The popcorn popping, pull up a seat, and enjoy the insanity type of event.

In our family, if you are the master of a domain, you don’t let people cross into your territory.  Let me give you an example.  I am the queen of Cherry Yum Yum.  I can whip up the best Yum Yum you’ve ever tasted in your life.  I would double dog dare a sibling to bring Yum Yum to any family event.  I would judge that “ish” like you would not believe.  I would pull out a food thermometer, test the consistency and put it under a microscope, whatever it takes to prove that I am the Queen of the Yum.

We are all like that.  Chet builds houses.  Marcie is the family person.  Jay, well Jay makes moonshine.  See?  We all have our domains.

Fast forward to the event of the century happening on 2-18.  My daddy’s 75th birthday party.  We are all pitching in with different things.  I’m doing the punch, which I can’t spike because the party is at a church.  A day I will have to endure sober as a judge.  Deb is getting a cake for daddy, etc.  We all have things to do.  It came to light last night that Patti, who’s domain is cake, is not happy with Deb buying a cake.  Therefore, Patti is making a cake for daddy herself.  One to sit in front of him.  We don’t exactly eat after Patti.  It just doesn’t seem like food poisoning, or cat hair is anything I need in my body.  Now let me explain….we call Deb “De-bor-ah”.  She is cut throat.  She will run you over in a parking lot, cut a limb off, poke your eye out…..you get the picture.

So when this cake is put in front of daddy, and De-bor-ah sees it, I picture an eye rolling, fingers snapping, hair pulling, UFC fighting, jail house cussing kind of fight.  One that I am thinking of selling tickets to.  One that with the proceeds I can buy a nice vacation on a secluded beach.  I am going to pop some Boyscout popcorn (because I spent $75 on it), pull up a comfortable chair, and watch the tea get spilled.  I may even post it on You Tube.

I am not even going to bring up the issue going on with the sandwiches.  If I can’t eat your cake, I’m not going to sandwiches you’re touching.  Jimmy Johns and Marcie for the win!

Hell, I may even show up in a black and white striped shirt with a whistle.

Much love,

Jamie

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