"Not Everyone Is As Lucky As You"
I'm the luckiest woman alive.
Like a gazillion other students, my stepdaughter graduated from college recently. FYI, graduations during COVID are super stinky stink, like a full trash can of used doggy bags kind of stinky. Her college, where I won't say the name, but it might happen to be Pennsylvania State University,* was especially stinky ... so much that it qualifies to be the size of a dumpster full of used doggy bags.
* I understand COVID. The big stink was that the university closed the iconic statute of the Nittany Lion, the school mascot, for pictures. That, and the ceremony was completely stupid. We spent enough money that they should have done a better job than that.
Why am I so lucky? Glad you want to know.
Several years ago, my husband and I got into a fairly heated argument with step-daughter's mother, we shall call her M.** This was after a year of M dating many, many men. The issue was not that M dated many, many men ... none of my business, TMI, WTF ... but that the step-children met these many, many men. Just so you know, your teenage daughters do not want to meet all your many, many men, okay??? I know this because *I* knew about these many, many men. And, none of my business, TMI, WTF.
The conversation went something such as this:
Me: M, you can't keep introducing the kids to these many, many men. Have some discretion.
M: Dating is really hard. It's hard to meet a good man. Not everyone is as lucky as you.
Me: ???????????????
Yes, she really said that.
** Any resemblance to her actual name is purely coincidental. Or maybe it doesn't resemble her actual name??? Who knows.
Fast forward many, many years after several five-dumpster-sized stinky courtroom battles. I go to law school. Children all graduate from high school. M moves to North Carolina with a man after a very long line of many, many men.
Basically, everyone is happy.
Except M. Because she decides that M's new husband is stinky, and she leaves him. (Right after they bought a house, btw.)
That stinks. Really bad.
My husband and I decide that it isn't healthy that we try to avoid M like the plague, despite said very strange comments from her, and everyone goes out to lunch after step-child's graduation. Our good deed for the day, amirite??? The next day happens to be Mother's Day, and daughter, step-children, husband, and I are celebrating until finally, everyone decides to go back to their respective houses.***
So, Step-Child says to me: M said that she wishes she was really good friends with you so you could tell her how to get a divorce.
Me: ???????????????
And yes, she really said that.
The moral of this story is that no good deed goes unpunished.
*** Daughter went back upstairs. I may have caught a glimpse of her when she was leaving for work.
Happenings
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I am pleased to offer this newsletter a swap for A Portrait of Memories by Hesham N. Ali. A psychological thriller! I love the cover, and I hope everyone enjoys the preview.
I'm getting back into some good legal fiction, so I picked up Presumed Innocent from Scott Turow. I'm going (to try) to write up a blog post, even though it has very little (okay, absolutely nothing) to do with Joe or dogs, about my top legal fiction reads. I may actually do some reviews as well.
I'm basically still watching Monk, the television show, because I almost never watch television and this has a gazillion seasons. But I saw this hilarious Youtube episode of Monk in the quarantine.
Happy Mother's Day, all you bad ass Moms.