Category: Category 1, My Blog

“I am the most important person in your life…” she says. “Excuse me? Did you forget about Ben Harper?” I have been telling my daughter this for years, and it was always met with a bored look (resting bitch face) and the dreaded eye roll. Now that she’s an astrologer, her responses do vary on the transits or whatever else she wants to confuse me with.

“Mother, when I have babies you will spend at least 6 months with me…” she says. “Excuse me? I have a life dammit. No. One month before you give birth and three afterwards, depending on what’s going on in my life and who I am in love with…” Again, it is met with a resting bitch face and an eye roll. She knows she will have to wrestle those grandbabies from me as I play bad piano and sing them to sleep or awake depending on my mood. Or, I might just play tango music and dance with them for hours like I did with her when she was small.

Granted, I got a few things wrong. Don’t  tell your kid about WW2, the extermination camps and how they didnt know they were gonna be gassed….a month before she goes to the dentist and the have to gas her!!! She was four years old. That kid freaked the fook  out and I was given sweet tea as I was shaking. She still opts for an injection when going to the dentist. Ah…good times, good times!

It is her birthday and she is the most important person in my life.  She will forever be called Baby or Girly or…stop-trying-to-find-ways-of-killing-people! I do that with music sure. She, however, is studying medicine and might just be able to get it right. Haha!

Happy birthday my one and only Bad Horse. You are crazy. Very weird. A great writer. A kick ass astrologer. Stop being such a tyrant with your boyfriend who is a lovely Scorpio dammit. Stop blaming  your crazy  on all your Aries placements please! Also, tell your father to get over his damn self and our past together. I would like to enjoy a good whiskey with him when you get married.

I know baby, I know…You love me more than Homer loves Beer. Happy birthday my Bucket of Muffins, my Bad Horse, bane of my existence. I found music the second you popped out.  How could I not just wanna sing and make up the weirdest stories eh? You were and still are the best piece of my sky. I do love you….but not more than Ben Harper’s  music baby. You can resting bitch face me all day girly girl. All damn day…

 

 

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