Must I be expected to remember everything that happens to me? People, if I can't rely on my children to fill in the blanks when I occasionally forget the minutia of an event, who can I rely on?
The following is an email I received from my daughter, TG, in response to my extraordinarily reasonable request for a memory filler so I could make a Wee Wisdom post about Miss America's reaction to seeing me greet my date at the front door. Certainly, when you've read it, you'll understand why I am utterly appalled!
TG: "Geez, Mom, this is your story. You're killin' me here. (I might have already been told this story a coupla times.) It went like this:
Ridiculous? Over-complicated? Hmph! People, my daughter doesn't know me AT ALL! TG: "Geez, Mom, this is your story. You're killin' me here. (I might have already been told this story a coupla times.) It went like this:
- Miss America ran up to say hello.
- You gave your date a hug and kiss.
- Miss America hung back to wait until y'all were done.
- She said hello.
- She came to me and said y'all were kissin'.
- I asked, if she asked, if y'all were gonna get married, cuz that is the rule. You kiss a boy, you marry that boy.
- She said, 'No, I didn't want to interrupt their lovin'.'
- We all laugh.
- Mom writes a ridiculously over-complicated version of the story for her blog."
Next time, TG, see if I fix your punctuation!
