If there’s one thing no one likes, it’s the shocker.
Let me pause a moment while all you 12-year-old boys out there laugh your asses off.
*waiting… waiting… waiting…*
Are you done?
No one likes the shocker, and I mean the one that shows up right about this time of year, when all you do it stand up, throw off your snuggie, and decide to touch something metal. It feels kinda like this:
Only more painful.
The January joysuck of static electricity.
I swear to all the gods in the heavens I actually almost shorted out the television set. I thought Jim might murder me in my sleep.
But you know what’s even MORE shocking about this January? More shocking than the visible spark that lit up my son’s face as I tried to give him a kiss (and subsequently made him cry and not talk to me for the rest of the day)? It is that at this exact moment, 40 years ago, I was alive. I was here. I EXISTED. Sweet mother of pearl.
I’m not 40 yet. But on January 4 — the best day ever — I celebrated birthday number 39. And as my sister likes to point out, your birthday does not mark that you’ve reached that year, it marks how many years you have completed. Which means I am now in my 40th year.
How did we celebrate number 39? With self portraits on my smartphone:
Then were did what all old people do. We went to the Olive Garden.
When you’re here, you’re family, yo.
I didn’t want to waste the whole freezing cold day of celebratory happiness doing nothing, so I cleaned out a few file drawers, where I was also reminded of my age.
I found the Fisher Price camera my mother gave me. This baby takes 110 film, a flip flash, and according to my mother, it floats.
Then I found this gem:
Why no, that is NOT how you spell my name. But my mother found this novelty item at the moccasin shop in Wisconsin Dells in roughly 1981, and man was she excited to find something with my name on it, spelled correctly or not. Apparently she didn’t realize when you name your kid Marney that pre-printed merchandise with her name already on it would be hard to come by. So she was super psyched about this treasure, and I’m not lying, I was too. Both in 1981 AND when I found it again. I shook it and realized there was money in it. My excitement was slightly lessened when I opened the coin pocket and let that 32 cents pour into the palm of my hand, only to find that every last coin was stamped 1998 or later. Not sure who was using my Wisconsin Dells Marnie wallet, but you’re busted, and your cold hard cash is mine.
This isn’t the only excitement of January 2013. Hockey started again, so we celebrated like every normal suburban family, with a trip to Buffalo Wild Wings where Mom and Dad could watch the game while the kids destroyed their brains with Cut The Rope.
Parenting is so hard.
And of course, January was when I made my trip back to the main land, after our fun-filled trip to Ireland. Can you believe my family took me there for my birthday? Well, you shouldn’t, because they didn’t. We took the parents instead, to mark the fact that not only have they been married 40 years, they’ve been married 10 years on TOP of that.
See how much fun we had? You know what else I learned in January? How to make photo collages on the internets.
The best gifts ever? The ones I brought back.
Little white boys are super cheap in Ireland.
Happy January everyone! Try to stay away from the shocker.