Sassyassitis

Did you know there’s an epidemic?  Neither did I until my kids caught it.  The only current vaccine known is for mothers.  It’s made from fermented grapes.

September must carry an ill wind.  My oldest children, who until recently gave random hugs and called me momma, morphed into pre-teens the moment they crossed the threshold of their first grade classrooms.  My babies caught obnoxicum contagioso (common name Sassyassitis) by association.  Maybe it lives on our towels like that horrid skin fungus we fought last year?   … Cosmic comeuppance on Mamalode.

If you have other cures, please stop by over there and tell me about them. I’m heading to Seattle in a few days with girlfriends to see the Madonna concert. That has to be a cure for something. I always said there are two concerts that I would pay today’s insane prices to see: U2 and Madonna. This is the first time I’ve put my money where my mouth is, so I’ll let you know if it’s worth it. She better flash some nipple and party like it’s 1989 because I’m not interested in dance club techno remixes, I want the old stuff.

Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone, I hear you call my name and it feels like HO-OME!

Wait. I hear it, the ghost of Matt’s voice in high school. We’re riding around in his Odge Domni. I have my Keds on the dash, my jeans are pegged above my socks and I’ve cranked up the radio (there’s no CD player!  or ipod connection! or port for the cell phone so we can listen to Pandora!  it came on the actual radio, which is way more fun!).

Matt:  Who sings this?

Me:  Madonna!

Matt: Let’s keep it that way.

It’s possible the CDC will identify my home as the location of case zero in the Sass flu pandemic.