So I have written about my bat shit crazy sister in law, the one married to my brother, the one who made up two pregnancies? You remember, that one. Anyway, it’s not like I hate her or anything, I just think she’s a loon, but she is often entertaining. One of the things that I like about her is that she and my brother have the same sort of weird sense of humor with each other that my husband and I do. And while the husband and I play outrageous one upsmanship to the end of “and so you are completely useless” they play until one of them makes the other one laugh. And my sister in law is very, very good at it. She is stoic and does have a pretty cool I win dance that I have tried to copy on several occasions. So they also are two people who should not do that shit in front of other people, but they often do as it is part of the whole who can crack first thing they have going on and the winner gets to do a dance, my brother’s dance, though, is not very good, but that’s ok because most of the time he loses. And this is a boy who affected a twitch and limp to follow me through the mall when we were teenagers because he thought it was funny (not the you know physical disability, but the embarrassing his sister who so did not want to take her little brother to the mall to buy new shoes but as my mom said “I told you having your drivers license would not be all fun”. And cut the kid a break he was only 14).

So this story takes place right after my sister in law had my niece, which is not the optimal time to play this game, but to my brothers credit he did have to take advantage of any situation since he usually lost. But really at the time my sister in law was getting stitches in a place no one should have get stitches (we all know, most of us have been there), and my brother was trying to distract his wife so she was not thinking about it – you know namely thinking oouch….bastard get away from there do you know what I just pushed out of there? So anyway it starts with my brother:

“I hope this doesn’t take long, you need to finish those dishes I left in the sink and I have like only one pair of clean underwear left, so you need to do some laundry.”

Now from someone I did not know this would be jaw dropping, but since my brother is actually the one who does the dishes and the laundry it was meant to be funny. And my sister in law returned with:

“Yeah, I am super tired from you know giving birth, so you will need to breast feed the baby for the next few hours, oh and then go ahead and pump some milk for later- do you need some help getting them on your boobs?”

See I told you she was good at this game. And right there anyone in the room should have been in on the joke, but it seems the doctor was not. And really who could blame her she was concentrating very hard on stitches somewhere there should not be stitches (see above), but she perked up when the conversation had gone back and forth for awhile and my brother came up with the winning shot.

“Yeah, well I’m going to ask the doctor here to throw in a few extra stitches for funsies.”

And with that he won because my sister in law burst out laughing (although she contends the drugs had finally kicked in, and really who is not on her side there?) but my brother did not have time for his I win dance because the doctor kicked him out of the room. I mean she literally said “I think you should leave now sir; that is not happening.” This of course only makes my sister in law laugh harder which makes it impossible for her to explain to the doctor that they are in fact just joking as the nurse ushers my brother out of the room. Don’t worry, once my sister in law recovered from both the drugs and the laughing (which I am sure were related) she did explain to the doctor that she and my brother have a strange sense of humor and he was just trying to make her laugh. The doctor did not think it was very funny, neither did my mother who was horrified that my brother had been kicked out of the delivery room. But everyone else I know including me thinks that this story is hysterical. I guess my brother and I did not get our sense of humor from our mother.

Yes it is the war of the paci, that little piece of plastic that makes the bug happy when she is cranky and mommy happy because she will not be cranky anymore. Mostly she just uses it to sleep and when she is about ready to go to sleep and wants to sit on your lap and watch Sprout (and that ugly star thing on in the evenings) and cuddle with her blanky.  And yes there have been times when the bug should be sleep and decides instead to throw everything in her crib out of her crib and then when she is actually tired yell out “paci!” because she just realized she is screwed and would like one of us to come make it better, usually me which is why she yells “mama paci” more often than not. But that little piece of plastic seems to be the sticking point for so many of her grandmas’ comments. And yes grandmas, both of our mothers have starting making little comments about the presence of the pacifier. And it is annoying, more than annoying it is the passive aggressive war of the century.

Listen I am used to listening to the comments from my own mother- the Irish mommy is fantastic at the passive aggressive stuff. My mother always has a comment about my life, or hair, or job, or furniture. And at the same time the little brother is spared because that is what happens when you are the youngest I guess, even if there are only two of you. I never really understood the constant critique. I would not go so far as to say I have been a mothers dream, but I have always been a good kid. I got good grades, never got into trouble,  didn’t break curfew, didn’t drink or do drugs and only liked boys as far as they didn’t interfere with the rest of my life and activities. I didn’t get married until I was 28, to a man my mother adores and who is Catholic. I didn’t make her a young grandma, and for god’s sake I’m a frickin’ doctor! But such is my life and one of the reasons I live over 500 miles away. I can handle her it’s really well from this distance. But as every mother knows once you have your own kid your mother is full of active advice and critique, even if they are working from information that is 20 years old.

And this is where we are with the paci. Does she need it? Shouldn’t we take it away? Yes the bug turns two in a few weeks and yes after that birthday we will probably start the weening of it, but honestly unless she wants to take it to kindergarten with her I am in no hurry.  I mean she’s two, not five and if she still has the thing then we will revisit the issue, but I so do not want to hear about it any more. It has gotten to the point where my mother in law is in on it to, of course neither of them will come right out and say she should not have the paci, they would just prefer to make comments about it, like all of the time. I have taken to editing what pictures I send them or post on facebook (and on a related note why in the world did I teach my mom about facebook? And shouldn’t there be a law or something about your mom friending you?) because if she has the paci in the picture I will not hear the end of it. I bite my tongue of course because, well, because who wants a phone call from the mothers asking why we are being so cranky, can’t we take a joke? No thank you.

My dad made a comment about the bug’s paci once, he wondered if it would hurt her teeth. I explained to him that his knowledge of paci’s is about 30 years old and now they are not considered the evil contraptions they once were. And you know what? He said, “oh, ok,” and has never brought the subject up again. And that is why he will go to a nice home and my mom is going to one of those bad ones where they beat you and steal your clothes. Or she will end up living with me and critiquing the way I change her bed pan. One or the other I am sure.

So I have written before how the husband and I share a very strange sense of humor and we tend to encourage that in each other which honestly provides us with hours of amusement and probably means that we really do belong together.  Of course that does not mean that we should take ourselves out of the house when we do this, we should totally keep that from other people before they call Dr. Phil on us and stuff. But occasionally we find ourselves caught by  people who must think one or both of us is crazy. You see when we get going with each other it soon becomes a contest to see who can say the most outrageous thing to get the other person to laugh. For example one of the husband’s favorite comebacks is “well you called me a crack whore and then kicked me, which I think was uncalled for,” and I will reply “well if you quit doing people for crack then you wouldn’t be a crack whore.” And with that I usually win because that shit is funny.  One of our favorite things to do is a game called “My Day was Harder than Yours” in which we of course tell each other about our day but then segway into a crazy list of accomplishments followed by smack talk about how the other person spent all day watching their “stories” and eating bon bons. For example the first person might say “Well today I built a perpetual motion machine which I used to feed all the starving throughout the world while you ate bon-bons.” And the second person comes back with “Well while you were playing with some tinker toys I spoke to every member of Congress about healthcare reform, which means basically that I am awesome and you are kind of useless.”  Look I know it’s crazy, we accept that, but it works for us so stop looking at me that way. Anyway this all usually takes place in the privacy of our own home and/or car as we are well aware that we are strange, but a few weeks ago we started in the car and as I was jonsing for some coffee and with no Starbucks drive through in the area we headed towards McDonalds and now we can never go back again, well at least to that McDonalds. Because you see just as the nice lady opened the widow to hand me my mocha the husband had come to the part of the game where you say “and so you are completely useless.”  The look that nice lady gave to my husband was priceless. I know that she very quickly told everyone working about the poor lady with the awful husband in the blue Jeep. But we spent the entire ride home in hysterics, so I guess it was worth it, but we still cannot go back to that McDonalds.

So I took some time off that coincided closely with the Holidays and my school break. I would say it was a nice break, but since it was filled with the end of the semester madness, buying presents madness, unpacking boxes madness and a trip back up north where we were trapped for a few extra days because of snow it was a bit stressful. I did not do Christmas well this year, I did not get all of the decorations out, which is mostly because the house was in such a state of boxes piled against the wall that the tree and the mantel were about all I could handle. I did not send out cards because I did not get it together to do so before the actual day and so I hand delivered them to the family when we saw them and the cute picture of the bug went to waste. I also did not buy any presents until after Dec. 20^th, some not even until after Christmas itself since we did a post December 25^th tour of Illinois. Oh well, I am calling this year a wash and starting over again in 2010 (by the way have we all decided which way to pronounce this yet?). Every day is a little bit better and I am actually looking forward to trying again soon. The husband and I actually have a good plan which included my mom as babysitter and a small vacation, cause vacation sex is always better than the regular kind, I don’t know maybe it is the lack of baby monitors and sippy cups, but hotels are always an aphrodisiac. Of course it could actually be the fact that I do not have to clean the room which makes me so deliriously happy.  But enough about that because I doubt that you would like to hear about my sex life (or maybe you do, who am I to tell you you are a sick puppy?). but do not worry, my snark is returning and I have some great stories from the trip up north  I am writing up, so stay tuned for the return to obnoxious.

Yesterday was hard, for many reasons, the first of all being that at 9:30 that morning we were supposed to have our big ultrasound, the one that tells us if we are painting the new nursery pink or green, the one that would settle our names discussion since if it was another girl we would not have to bring up the husband’s favorite name, Stanley, again and I would not have to make faces whenever I heard it mentioned (I mean I think a kid would not like the name Stanley, no matter who he was named after). But instead I am left not knowing, not knowing what caused us to lose our baby or what name I can give to a baby whose sex we do not know. The husband has always thought it was another girl, and while I said I thought it was a boy I really didn’t, I agreed, it was probably a girl. So in my head I have been thinking of the baby as a her, and for some reason I have been calling her Lucy. Of course this all only happens in my head, I wonder if other people would think I was a little crazy if they knew what was going on there. I have been spending a lot of time online, reading and trying to find out where I might fit, where I might find some community. After the first few days I quit researching the reasons behind a second trimester miscarriage, there were no answers there and I was torturing myself. But because I just cannot deal with the real people I know and that damn head tilt (you know the one they give you when they ask how you are) I went looking for online strangers that I could relate to, the search has been so/so. I started at a place I already went to, a pregnancy/parenting website with message boards. I have been posting over there for a few years, since I was pregnant with the bug, I mean I wonder over there when I am bored and stuff. So I checked out the pregnancy loss board, but I didn’t feel very welcome, I shouldn’t say that because I never posted anything, I just lurked for awhile and realized that while the women there seemed super supportive that they also did not like signatures on posts that included pictures of children or pregnancy counters. I get that, really I do but I am not ready to delete the bug’s cute picture of riding a carousel at the county fair this summer just to post on a message board. Mostly because I cannot even imagine what this time would be like if I didn’t have her. Would I have curled up in bed for days on end watching Law and Order marathons if someone didn’t need a diaper change and a sippy of milk? Probably. But instead I am forced to get up and play dollies and listen to toddler laughs and get sloppy kisses, I cannot even put into words how much all of that has helped me. Even her temper tamptrums are somehow more precious to me. Believe me I know that that will wear off sooner rather than later. But I do not blame these women, a lot of them do not have any children to take up all of those hours, but I need mine. So off I went to find some other spaces, but more often than not I feel like a square peg (does anyone remember that show? SJP before Sex and the City? I mean I barely remember that show). Somehow I have a hard time seeing where I can fit in. Many of the people I have come across struggle with infertility, this has not been part of our story. Through sheer dumb luck and clockwork cycles I have gotten pregnant both times right away. Now I do not know what the future holds and in July I will be 35, but for now the doctors have not seen any issues with me. But I have found some good blogs through this, reading about other people’s struggles has made me feel better. So has writing, but getting my thoughts out on paper (or micrsoft documents) has always helped me, probably why I went into the profession I am in. So for now I will write here and continue read other people and think about the ways I am so lucky as I follow the big around and pick up small bits of cookie and slobber. To end on a funny note I have to tell you about this. We are finishing our move this weekend, and while we are only moving 15 minutes away it is to this tiny little town with a population of like 3,000 people. So when we were there yesterday I noticed how cold it was, well cold for WV, not for two former Midwesterners. I was annoyed with the gas company thinking that they never turned it on on Monday like they said they would. So after waiting 15 minutes this morning and getting ready to rip someone a new one I find out that they were just there on Wednesday taking a reading, could the pilot have gone out? I have no clue mostly because I have no idea what a pilot light is. So despite assurances from the husband that he would check, I decided to bypass the whole thing and call the property manager (yes we are renting because even though we are ready to buy, no one told the WV housing market that and it SUCKS!). He assures me that he will head over to the house and take care of it, but very quickly I get another call, it seems that someone has stolen our gas meter. What. The. Fuck? I didn’t even know this was a possibility, I mean what the hell does one do with a gas meter once you have stolen it? The gas man my husband met with today says that it is actually not uncommon, I guess someone who needs gas goes looking for an empty house with the gas still on and just takes it. Again I have to say what the fuck? The only downside now is that our house, in the 3,000 tiny little town outside of the city is now considered high risk for crime and someone will always have to be home if the gas man has to come. I am so very pleased.

First of all I want to say wow, thank you, all of you. In my quest to find some community in which I could fit now that all of this has happened, it seems the community found me. Thank you LFCA, you found me when I needed you most. And thank you to whoever put that in motion, really. I have never been what you would call a religious person, I mean I was raised Catholic, a religion my husband and I still practice. And by practice I mean we go to church every Sunday and observe practices like not eating meat on Fridays during lent, which just means we aren’t Christmas and Easter Catholics. My faith in God is strong, my faith in humans not so much, so I do often find myself at odds with the Church, not God, the church because I do not think it is a sin to be gay and the only one who knows what God said is God and maybe Mother Theresa, but that’s all. I also find it obnoxious when people quote scripture at you for everything, because it usually implies that you are somehow not doing something correct in your spiritual quest. But again I’m Catholic and we don’t tend to be too obnoxious about religion, you know like asking if people have found god or are saved (note I do not find it obnoxious if you believe these things, only if you won’t shut up about it), the only people who tend to lecture like that are priests and nuns and that’s ok because that’s their job and stuff. What I find odd right now about my faith is that it has been strengthened, not lessened by the loss of our baby. This is odd because I would have thought I would be the one railing against god for this, but I’m not. I think it’s because I know God would never be that cruel, he would not have caused our baby do die just because, there was a reason. He has a plan. Now I do not want this post to go off of the rails, but since I tend to go inward when I am upset and not out toward other people I am trying to make sense of my tangled thoughts (even as I know rhetorically that is strange since this is a blog post and it is going outward, but I am turning off my English professor mind for awhile). Specifically I am thinking about tomorrow, how at 9:30 we were supposed to have another look at the baby, make sure he/she was growing and hopefully find out the sex. But since the best explanation any of the doctors have is that there was probably a chromosomal anomaly, the day would not have been as happy as I thought it would be. They probably would have found that there was something wrong and then we would have been faced with decisions, or rather faced with coming to terms with decisions that had already been made. The husband and I had this discussion before we had the bug, what would we do if something was found wrong with one of our children? Our agreement was instant, we would do nothing, we would not terminate and we would, as cheesy as it sounds, let God’s will be done. Now I am not as articulate as I usually am today, so please believe me when I say that my sharing this with you is not a judgment on anyone who had faced that situation and made a different decision, really I am not. And believe me I am a judgmental person, usually about stuff like “Honey what possessed you to buy and then wear those shoes, in public no less” or “dude did the car really only come in babyshit yellow?” The important stuff is for someone else (no not you) to judge, it is above my pay grade. I am just saying that this was our decision. I wonder if God took that decision away from us so that we would not have to make it. Is it possible that my mother is right when she tells me that God only gives us what we can handle and maybe I should stop grinding my teeth and listen to her occasionally. I don’t know, I will probably never know that. And right now what I don’t know would fill an amphitheatre. What I do know is that I am not looking forward to when this calm cloud lifts. Wish me luck.

Today should be the day that I explain my long absence from this blog, when I tell you all about how busy work has been as the semester ends, how we up and decided to move in the middle of all of this craziness especially as we packed up and headed on a family vacation to Florida, all right before the holidays, but instead I am writing to talk about how our second child was born sleeping last week. On November 21rst at 18 weeks 6 days pregnant my water broke while I was in Florida. I was taken by ambulance to the local hospital where an ultrasound showed that our baby has passed away about two weeks before. People keep asking me how we are and all I can answer with is numb. We were, I must admit, blindsided. Here I was in my second trimester of my second pregnancy that was progressing as smoothly as my first, we never saw this coming. The next few weeks will be filled with follow up appointments and testing that in the end will probably tell us nothing. It seems like this, like so many other things in life, will have no real answers. The best anyone has been able to tell us is it is just one of those things that happen. But there is hope, hope that we will have no trouble in the next pregnancy although I find it hard to even think about. Or maybe that is all that I can think about because the thought of never smelling the sweet breath of a baby would be too much for me to bear. The fact that we have a happy and healthy child is our hope that we will have more. But for now we are just concentrating on getting through Christmas and unpacking the new house before spring thaws out this cold.

Dude have you seen this story and then this sorta mea culpa after this video came up? Also check out all the comments of people screaming from one side or another, I swear you will waste like at least an hour reading this stuff, or maybe you actually clean your house when you’re supposed to and do not look for other things to do like me. If that is you, bite me, go dust something and leave the rest of us slackers alone.

So of course because my life is so very boring and I have no funny stories to share with you, I would like to add my two cents. Now obviously this woman exaggerated her story for dramatic effect, hey if cable news can do it, why not her. But also, that TSA video that is supposed to prove this woman an out and out liar, obviously edited. What? Our government would never do something to make themselves look better in the face of bad press? Yeah, let me ask you a question, who killed JFK? So at the end of the day I don’t really trust either party, but I do think we need to constantly evaluate TSA performance, not because I say so but because a bunch of other people whose job it is to test this stuff says so, because while you better not put some water in a sippy cup, or accidentally leave a trial size vial of Clinique lip gloss in your purse (ok this one is me, I am obviously a horrible person) – real weapons are actually still getting through. I have no beef with TSA agents, I have flown a lot and have flown with the bug and never had an issue, but lots of other people have. And while it does not seem like the TSA agents actually took the woman’s child out of her sight, I do not think that would be unbelievable, even if they TSA has guidelines that children are never separated from parents, which is a very good rule cause if someone I did not know, TSA agent or not, tried to take my child somewhere else someone better call that cops, because I would get physical if need be. Also, what the hell is up with the plastic box? Nice way to treat people, you know paying customers. I don’t care what anyone says that is bullshit, and also not secure, she was left alone long enough to get rid of anything that may have been dangerous, so do not give me the security excuse. Again, I would be gone because I am not getting in that box, sorry. One of the reasons I hate to fly is because of the security check, and while I understand we have to have some security what we need is security that actually works and does not demean and humiliate people who are just trying to travel. I get anxious and flustered because I am afraid of stepping the wrong way and getting a strip search and while I have never had any problems I have seen some unjustifiable racist profiling going on in the airport. I think it will change and soon, people do not like being treated like criminals when they haven’t done anything and you know that whole people who sacrifice liberty for security will lose both or something like that. But I know you came here for a funny story.

 The best story I have ever heard actually comes from my husband, and while not rage inducing is absolutely hysterical.

First of all the husband is always, and I mean always being pulled aside for secondary screening. The best I can tell is because of his size, because otherwise he is so wholesome looking he could be in a J. Crew ad. But he is a big guy, 6’4 and built like a linebacker. But that’s ok, it never takes long and we’re used to it now. And when I mean it never takes long I mean he has never been put in a plastic box and waited 10 minutes. Anyway, add to this the fact that the husband has a titanium plate in his ankle; it is actually holding his ankle together, so you know, it’s important. Now sometimes this sets off the airport metal detector, he explains the situation, they wand his ankle, see the monster scar and we are on our way, but this one time, oh baby. Let me set the scene for you, the husband sets off the metal detector:

The husband: I do have a titanium plate holding my ankle together.

TSA: Step back through sir. (the husband beeps again) Sir do you have any metal in your pockets?

TH: No, I do have a titanium plate holding my ankle together.

TSA: Step back through sir. (the husband beeps, again). Sir, are you sure you do not have any metal on you?

TH: (with a confused look) No, but I have a titanium plate holding my ankle together.

TSA: Please come over here sir.

At this point the TSA guy starts wanding my husband. He gets all the way down to his ankle where, you guessed it, the wand started beeping.

TSA: Sir, do you have something on your ankle?

TH: I have a titanium plate in my ankle (this is the first inkling that the husband is getting a bit frustrated, mostly because he is a better person than me, cause I would have been annoyed much sooner but also because I was standing nearby laughing my ass off.)

TSA: Could you lift up your pant leg? (husband does so where it is obvious that he has had surgery due to the very large scar) Sir do you have some sort of metal in your ankle?

Now imagine if you will gigantic peals of laughter and a thump as I fall on the ground to laugh some more.

TH: Yes, I have a titanium plate holding my ankle together.

TSA: Well, can you take it out?

TH: (and this is why I love him) Not without a scalpel and a screwdriver.

Eventually Stephan Hawking’s cousin calls over a supervisor who in about 3 minutes clears the husband, although it takes a bit longer to pick me up off the floor.

And that is the best airport story ever.

I have to admit that we had the best day yesterday. We went down to this place that is a cool farmer’s market/food co-op that changes according to season for a pumpkin feast for the kids. We invited a few friends and a great time was had by all. These friends have a little girl about 6 weeks older than the bug and are expecting their second as well, about a week after us. We totally do not plan these things, but we do think it’s funny. It is nice to be able to compare pregnancies and kids with someone else my age, although she tends to get a little competitive over stuff, like she was really beside herself because her daughter did not have teeth until she was a year old, really I mean it’s teeth how the hell can you control that? My kid has very little hair; it does drive me a little crazy only because I want to buy her cute barrettes, but since there is not much I can do about that I am not too bothered.

But we were having a good time comparing the obnoxious comments people make to pregnant women. I do not know what it is about normal people but their foot seems to go right to their mouth when it comes to making small talk with pregnant people. Which seems odd to me because the person who you should really mind your manners around is a hormonal and nauseous woman, but there you have it. Honestly I do not remember people being too obnoxious around me the first time around, but I think that may be because you are in your own world you really don’t pay much attention. But the second time around things are a little different. So anyway, here are our favorites:

1. I bet you are hoping for a boy this time!- never ask people what gender they want their yet unborn child to be, it’s obnoxious and rude. Cause even if they are secretly hoping for one or the other they are not going to admit it to you because they know that you would just judge them- yeah I’m talking to you, you know it’s true. Also there are parents who do not care, really, I’m one of them. My response to this is: Well I want three kids so this one’s a gimme- that usually shuts people up.
2. How is your daughter taking it? – First you should think about the age of the older child when asking this question, cause when people say this to me I give them a look- you know the look that says, she doesn’t think much of it because she is 20 months old. Serious I asked her if she wanted a baby brother or sister and she gave me a quizzical look and said “no, juice.” So that’s it, no baby, just some juice please because that is how your mind works when you are 20 months old! And even if said child is old enough to have an opinion, what if that opinion is not good? People aren’t going to tell you that either, you know cause of the judging (see #1)- also what would you say if the parent in question told you something weird and freaky? Too much knowledge is sometimes a bad thing.
3. Wow you are popping out so early. – if you choose to say this to a pregnant woman I would make sure that you do it from a distance from which she cannot slug you, cause you would deserve it. Believe me, we know exactly what we look like and yes, indeed we have started to show early, but that would probably be because this is our second child, for me it is the second time I have been pregnant in two years. And no we do not need you to point that out, thanks anyway though.
4. Wow you’re having another one? – dude this is my second child, I mean I’m not Michelle Duggar, I’m not in double digits yet. Two children is not a crazy number, but wait I want three or four- so give me that surprised look now, and thank you for letting me know that kids are expensive because that information is new to me.

What are your favorites?

So there is this store downtown which sits right on a main street, and at this time of the year I dread going by, actually I find other ways to the mall between Oct. and January. Why? Because I get totally creeped out. You seem this store is, oh how to put it delicately, a monument store. No? Ok, you forced me to spell it out, it is a store that sells headstones. Of course this is really not the creepy part, there have to be headstone stores, where else would people get headstones? I know that no one wants to think of that, but you know taxes and death being the only sure things in life and all. But what is creepy, what makes me drive the long way around is that the monument store decorates for the holidays. And I do not mean that they put up some tasteful Happy Whatever sign and let it be, no they go all out. Right now they have hung fake spider webs, orange pumpkin lights, scary cats and broom leaned up against headstones – their showroom floor looks exactly like a movie set cemetery. I have to ask why the hell they would do this. I know that that big showroom looks out over a busy street, but do they really think this will drum up business for them? And really if you are a headstone salesman does your business every slow down? Halloween is not the worst though, oh no not by far. For Christmas they have a whole Christmas Carol think with Ebenezer Scrooge and all of the ghosts. At least they didn’t put some happy blinking twinkle lights up, but still. I guess that I expect a place selling headstones would have a little bit of decorum, but I would be wrong. I just do not know how those decorations help their clients when they come in. I would guess people coming to buy a headstone are not in the best of mood, maybe they don’t want Casper making noises at them or a fake hand grabbing at their hand. But oh, I have saved the best for last. Randomly during the year they decorate the window facing headstones with happy birthday messages. At any time you can look over and see “Happy Sweet 16 Lucy!” all over a headstone. I just have to ask who thinks this is a good idea. And how do you feel if you are the person whose birthday is all over some headstone that everyone can see as they drive by. Do you send a thank you card for that?