i, the leprechaun…

Every year, before I go to bed on the 16th of March, I unplug my phones and mute my cell. You see, me mums has a peculiar habit of calling at an unreasonably early hour the next morning to wish me a happy birthday. Yes, today I turn x years-old.

Disclaimer: this may not be a fair representation of my age.
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As predicted, I woke up this morning at my usual 0630 to find two messages on my message machine and one on my cell. After my traditional birthday morning run, I listened to my messages.

One was from my sister (a.k.a. sissy), who, being an anti-morning person, left the message at 0130, no doubt, right before she was to have her dinner…

The other two were, predictably, from me mums. In addition to regressing into a shameless garble of kissy-kissy, huggy-poo kooing of birthday wishes (cryptic incantations that she, no doubt, hopes will magically transport me back into her womb) and memories from my childhood, she ended the messages with a side-note. Me mums wanted to let me know that the obstetrician who gave birth to me, Dr. Slaughter (I’m not making this up), had moved to Arkansas and is still well and alive at eighty years-old. She was hoping that news would cheer me up in the face of my own aging anxieties and depression. Actually, it was comforting news – at least I hadn’t gotten along in old age enough to survive the first man that ever saw me naked – yet…

On the opposite side of the family spectrum regarding b-day wishes is me pops. I received an email from me pops, yesterday, wishing me a happy birthday. I emailed him back, gently reminding him, “You’re a day early, pops, but thanks…” To this, pops’ replied, “Well, in our culture, family and friends wish each other a happy birthday on their birthday’s eve. We call it a birthday ‘warming.’”

Hmmm, nice try? I’ve lived x years, and have never heard that one before… and Pops, what exactly is “our culture?” Regardless, I still love you pops!

As for me mums, I know she’ll call again at 1736 my time – the exact time on March 17, 19xx when her tortuous 36 hour labor ended in the arrival of the Ulterior Epicure.

Here’s to a cheerful and food-filled day of celebration! However you decide to spend your St. Patrick’s Day evening – remember to have an extra scoop/slice/pint for me! Cheers.


P.S. I dislike the colour green, generally…
P.S.S. Mr. Bruni, if you are out there reading this, won’t you please fulfill my birthday wish by hiring me?

~ by ulterior epicure on March 17, 2005.

5 Responses to “i, the leprechaun…”

  1. Dr. Slaughter?!?!?! I love it!

    Happy Birthday (again). I’m off to drink a pint of something dark and Irish in your honor. No, make that honour.

    Cheers!

  2. This post has been removed by a blog administrator.

  3. Happy Birthday! I heart Pisces folk! :) Hope it was wonderful and that you found something particularly scrumptious to eat in celebration!

  4. Oh, and not to be snarky or anything (you may feel free to just delete this comment in fact — oh wait — it’s *YOUR* blog, you can do so without my permission) BUT… the second post-script (the post post script) is abbreviated PPS and not PSS. Just thought you should know. ;)

  5. denise.

    oops! slight oversight! thanks for the well-wishes – and yes, i found lots of delectibles to eat on me b-day…

    u.e.

    p.s. keep at your weight loss program – kudos for keeping to it!

    P.P.S. tell the kiddies hello! hope you’re having a wonderful time with your daughter!

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