soapboxdiner

Winging it

You know what I love about my family? We're odd. All of us. Traditions? Allow us to scoff at them. Sure, they're good for a turkey on Christmas and a ham on Easter, but other than that? We wing it. Wingers, we are. We just kinda let things fall into place and don't make a big ceremony over them. Which, as you can imagine, can lead to some interesting results for the uninitiated.

Parties? Eh, get a cake and some luncheon meat and it's on! Written invitations? Oh, why bother with all that? We're wingers, our friends are wingers. We'll call ya. "Betty, we're having a party on Saturday. We hope you can make it." Boom, you're invited! "Oh we look so forward to seeing you there, Betty. And be sure to tell Sally, Bob and George about the party - they're invited too." The winging works for us.

Family birthdays? Wung. "What do you want for your birthday?" Eh, whatever. Wing it. "Do you want to go somewhere or do something special?" Oh, I don't know. Whatever comes up.

A family of wingers and whatevers.

So Mom's birthday is Monday. "Hey Mom, whatdaya want?" Oh, don't make a bigg fuss over it, dear. If you want, you can come over and clean my house top to bottom. I'd love a good deep cleaning before winter. "Um, okay Mom. What else do you want?"

You don't have to get me anything, dear. Sure, the garden needs fall clearing and you are my gardener, but you don't have to fuss over me. "Okay Mom. I'll come clean your house and get your garden ready for winter."

Thanks, dear. You really are quite sweet to offer. But don't you go spending any money on your mother now.

Isn't that winging it stuff fun? Sure, we could go the traditional route with gifts and a dinner out, but we prefer hard manual labor.

9:20 am - 10.26.02
previous | next

Home | Archives | Profile | Notes | DiaryLand | Random Entry