Happy (I Guess) Mother's Day, Or Something of the Sort

I don’t really care for Mother’s Day anymore.

I miss my own mother. More and more.

Child 1 joined Fabrice and me for a lovely lunch near Union Square in San Francisco yesterday. That was nice.

Child 2 called and wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, and then asked whether or not I had purchased her iPod yet. That was less nice. Later on, she told me about how she wanted to play catch with her uncle. The guy may be the brother of her father’s wife, but that does not make him her uncle. I’d even be okay with “step uncle,” even better with “David,” but, her “uncle?!!!” Give me a break! I don’t like her father’s wife and her family usurping my child’s relationship with her own family. I like even less the fact that it bothers me so much.

My dog bit my niece in the face, for the second time. I think the dog needs to go to the Humane Society. She should be alright, away from younger children, or other dogs. But “should bes” aren’t good enough in my book, doncha’ know. She never bit anybody while in my care, custody, and control. Not once. It pains me to think that the “evil” “they” out there might have to put her down. But she’s unstable. And, a lack of stability in what is essentially a baby wolf, in dog’s clothing, is definitely NOT to be trifled with!!

Nopity, nope, nope, nope, don’ care for Mother’s Day no more ‘roun here, not one bit.

“Ça ira mieux demain.
Du moins je l’espère.
Parce-que c’est déjà
Ce que je me suis dit hier.”