Blog - Tortured Soul

My older brothers had a bunk bed, my little brother had his own bed and my sister and I shared a queen-sized bed.

We also shared countless hours of strange bedtime rituals: she would put on her school uniform (white blouse and brown plaid jumper) and pull her nightgown over it — that was for early morning efficiency… I would skip the uniform step and go right to the nightgown.

I was so slow!

She would coat her arms in Elmer’s Glue,

I would dress and redress Raggedy Ann.

I don’t know if she shared my fear of the monster under the bed.

No, what am I saying? She did not. In fact, she created the fear!

Siblings can be so cruel.

She waited.

Pacing the widow’s walk, praying for his ship to appear on the horizon, her view of the sea uninterrupted from her perch.

But no!

And who but those onboard could know the truth — was it a storm? Pirates? Mutiny?

Or was it The Kraken?

That’s the sound that March makes — that and a muffled sobbing. February triggers cabin fever but March in Minnesota is far more dangerous.

Here’s a story about March: One Christmas, Santa put a baby albino rabbit under the tree — so delightful! 

The little rabbit grew into a big rabbit and by the next Winter, our basement smelled like the bunny barn at the State Fair. With scraps of wood and a bale of hay, I built an outdoor rabbit hutch.

In a pinch, it could serve as a coffin for an adult man.

IN A PINCH.

By March it was buried under several feet of snow and I’d order my eldest to go spend time with the rabbit in the snow coffin.

The moral of the story is: Get a dog.

And something about March creating crazy. Thank God I have an outlet for my March crazy:

My high school English teacher told the class that if we looked up the word ‘glib’ in the dictionary, there would be a picture of me.

She was right!

I think I felt insulted.

I’m sure Jen’s high school English teacher said something similar about her.

And if not, she should have.

What does this have to do with angry parents or a new card?

Obviously, my glibness was not celebrated at home. In fact, it was frowned upon — can you believe it?! 

And Jen’s reckless behavior?? You’ll have to ask her about that… I mean, pregnant at 19?! What was she THINKING?! (Wait, that was me?? We need to hire a fact checker.)

There IS a universal language on the World Wide Web and understanding it only requires the appreciation of three things:

1) Kittens

2) Wine

3) Talking dogs

Also, videos where guys get kicked in the nuts — but those existed before YouTube.

I follow the dog around the house with my iPhone and I plan on kicking a guy in the nuts this week.

My life is all kittens and wine, so I was able to create the following: 

Feel free to share that 1,000,000 times.

And here’s a new card: It’s a true story.

Ah, romance! One couple might choose dinner and a movie… Another couple might choose post-coital cannibalism.

I’ve been told that life is full of challenges. And I’m sure that, someday, I’ll encounter one. I hope it’s not a shipwreck or banishment. …I will probably contract the Ebola Virus. I designed a card for myself in preparation.

Oh, but here’s a more “buyable” card for those of us that need encouragement:

Hello.

My name is Pevenshire Wiffynuts and I’m here today to talk about targeting your demographic. Whether you are marketing adult diapers, cowboy hats, or cemetery plots, it is critical that you understand your audience. That may mean that you have to poop in your pants, herd cows, or bury a loved one.

Don’t be afraid to do these things — they will help you effectively move product and change lives. 

Wow! Thanks, Pevenshire.

I hear what you’re saying — I ripped off my mom-mask to reveal the face of an eight-year-old-boy so I could create this birthday card:

I’ve nursed a few babies in my day and that makes me an expert on sacrifice.

It does.

Or is it laziness? Making a bottle seemed like so much work! …Get out of my cozy bed, walk all the way to the kitchen, measure and pour powdered formula into a bottle, warm water in pan on stove, add water to bottle, test temperature

OR

lift up my shirt.

Anyway, I made a card for the new mother:

Isn’t that a comforting thought?

If I had a tumor, I’d want a group of strangers to pray it away.

Less messy than surgery.

Also, if I could train a field-full of meerkats to pray for me, I would.That would be adorable.

Thanks (or no thanks) to Facebook, phrases that were once packed with meaning, are like a watered-down drink: You are in our prayers… We are all praying for you…

These, followed by a frowny-face 🙁 are now much more common than a hand-written note.

🙁 x 1,000!

Someday we’ll create Encouragement Cards for the most grievous of events (will we??) but how about those events that still deserve more than a Facebook comment? How about: sewage backups, low-risk operations, stomach flus, power-outtages, lost dogs, lost luggage, car-jackings, rat-infestations, or hauntings?

Not quite tragic but still entitled to a show of support. A card like this (IN THE MAILBOX) would cheer a person up posthaste: