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Grad-u-ate Good Times, Come On!

July 9, 2022July 5, 2022

Apparently one-half of the world will be spending part of their weekend sneaking cosmopolitans into Sex and the City: The Movie. Well, maybe not the women of Bhutan, because their “Happiness Index” policies mean that they limit advertising in the country, as advertising makes people unhappy and focused on consumption. The Bhutan chicks might not have seen all the ads and previews, so they’ll be doing something else this weekend that makes them happy, blissfully unaware that they are unhappy because their shoes suck ugly.

My Happiness Index (HI) is sky-high. It’s Grad-o-rama around here. My younger son graduated from his sweet, creative alternative middle school yesterday, and tomorrow my older son is walking to accept his HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA. We’re in the middle of three weeks of parties, polar emotions and festivities. A small amount of weeping, but mostly celebrations.

The only things tamping down my HI are about to be remedied toda. I was broke yesterday because I’m shelling out a couple of twenties a day for graduation brunches, limos, T-shirts, potluck dishes, and xanax (for mummy). And I do need new shoes, because I do. But today is payday, so I’m rich again. The house is still ajumble, but I’m home to fix that today as well. See how much progress I have made already? Um…

I do have one remaining problem. As one of my parent jobs, the school told me to buy 10 cans of whipped cream for the traditional ritual of cream pies in the faces of middle school graduates, which I did. But only 5 cans were used. So that’s a lot of whipped cream lined up like Siberian soldiers in my fridge.

  • Do I take them back to the store and overexplain that they have been carefully chilled the entire time of their absence from the store?
  • Design a party menu around cream?
  • Spray paint “I’m not old!” on my front lawn?
  • Post on Craigslist that I’ll perform anal whipped cream enemas for $100 each to replenish my checking account from this week?
  • Just huff the gas to console myself that my babies are growing up?


I guess if surplus Readi-Whip is my only problem , life is good. Remember when you tossed your mortar board in the air? Cheers!

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