This little owl is as surprised as you are that,
like wearing stretchy pants in your room, I'm blogging jus' for fun.
Hello, my friends! I've missed you! Missed your blogs! Missed your comments! Missed your anonymous cash donations to the "DeNae Really Needs a Vacation" fund!
Ha! I totally kid on that last one! Really, there will be no pitches to contribute to worthy causes, like the one on my sidebar with the little video and sporting the buttons that say "give" and "share" and "Are you sure you don't want to send DeNae to a spa or something?"
I have been given a lot of wonderful opportunities to use this silly old Seinfeld of a blog -- truly, the blog about nothing -- to do some good. I'm fairly certain these delightful people clicked the wrong e-mail address and then, when it was too late to back out gracefully, they heaved the Sigh of Inevitability and included me in their philanthropic activities. Nevertheless, I soldier on, like the good little Doo-Bee that I am. (If you think I'm referring to a joint or a band, then lord have mercy, I'm even older than YOU.)
TODAY'S WISDOM has to do with the upcoming holiday decorating season. This wisdom was recently acquired by my 16-year old son while stringing artificial cobwebs all over our porch. Despite our owning two ladders and a perfectly good step stool, Jake -- certain that he knew best, because all 16-year olds do, don't you know -- chose a different method to reach those higher, out of the way spots.
A white resin chair, rigid and cracked from the cold, does not make a very good step ladder. Stand on it long enough, however, and it becomes a terribly fetching skirt. Be warned: This surprising addition to your ensemble may cause you to lose your balance and topple tutu over teakettle into the dead and leafless shrubbery beneath the porch. On your back, six legs flailing -- two of them human -- and irrecoverably stuck, you will give the appearance of an upended turtle. Help will come, after your sister deals with the bladder control issues brought on by your feat of acrobatic and balletic tumbling.
Your mother's biggest regret that day will be that she was cleaning out the car when it happened, and didn't turn around until you were de-frocked and being hauled out of the bushes by your cross-legged sister.