Getting cuffed by a Looney Tune......

Howdy folks - everyone have their snow tires on? ;-)

I just had a major dust-up with my inner demon child/brainwashed homemaker.  (OOoo! amusing side note - on the Flylady website, someone was referring to a project where she'd made a beautiful fresh cranberry wreath.  She didn't specify which 'homemaker' designed it, but commented '....but she'll be spending this holiday season behind bars...'  I LOVE that!)

Anyway, as I said, I've just battled out my M.S. obsessed inner child, over how to have a 'memorable tree trimming' event tomorrow. And, I've finally called a TIME OUT!!! It was a heated battle - fresh-baked gingerbread in the oven, boots lined neatly at the front door, holiday music playing and neatly stacked ornament tubs - VERSUS - children with hair actually brushed, naps taken, floors swept, and mt. dew for all.  I'll report later on the outcome, because tomorrow also happens to be the mother of all rotten days that have hit our family.

My brother passed away just before 3 am on  Dec. 4th, 1996.  Despite his far-too short life (oh golly, what i would have given for a full century with him!!), he packed a Whole lot of living in his 29 years.  Including something most of us never considered an actual option - getting handcuffed  for bad behaviour by someone... voiced by Mel Blanc (for those of you under 30, just hang in there.  Google it ;-)

This story was beautifully written by my mother (it will help to know my brother's last name is Rude.  No kidding.), in honor of her son, and her beloved younger brother Tom, who passed away from lung cancer this spring.  God rest your souls, we miss you so very, very much.

(From Marge Harrington)

"When I was first divorced and we were still in our house on Wisconsin Ave. there was a weekend when I was out with my friends. I received a phone call. My daughter said (my son) Denny had been picked up by the Virginia police, and they were holding him because he had been drinking. I was to go to the jail and pick him up. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. At that moment, I decided I needed to have a “show of power.” I called Tom, and asked him to come with me so Denny could see I wasn’t going to mess around. I had a male figure of family authority with me and Denny would see we meant business.

We arrived at the police station, I told them who I was, and that I was there to pick up my son. To my horror, a policeman started speaking, “Are you Denny Wude’s mom?” Denny started smiling, Tom started snickering and turned around, Denny started smiling even more, so I said, “Yes, I’m his mother and I want to know what he did.” This cop starts talking again and he said “Mr. Wude was seen with a dwink in his hand and he is obviouswy a minnow (minor); we could smew wickow (liquor) on his bweath.”

Tom’s shoulders were shaking, Denny had his head down and he was biting his tongue. I didn’t know who to be more mad at, Denny for the drinking or Tom for not bringing the serious tone I was looking for. Those two laughed about it all the way home. It was much funnier as the years went by, but what a bad case of timing. Any other cop would have served the right tone for the situation, but we got Elmer Fudd."

Mom, thanks for giving me my brother.  Denny, thanks for yet again proving that......sometimes, ya just gotta laugh.

Today, no matter what, just love your family, whomever they are.

S.