She Takes the Cake

This morning at breakfast, D2, our nine-year old, announced,

"I haven't had a birthday in years. But on my next birthday, I'm gonna be a double digit woman."

Skirting the Issue

Armed with a gift certificate from my friend Mindy, I hit the Ann Taylor Summer Sale. I brought this darling stretch twill skirt, but since I am not 5' 10" and 102 pounds it looks slightly different on me.

Nonetheless, I like it. So I wore it to church Sunday.

That evening we went to dinner at my parents' house. Shortly after arriving, my fashion oblivious father donned in a checkered western- cut shirt from Shephlers which was unbutton at the neck one too many buttons, commented, "Did you get a new skirt?"

"Er, yeah. I can't believe you noticed."

"Well of course I'd notice! You haven't worn anything that stylish in years."

Was that a compliment? Either way it is certain his head injury from 2004 is much more serious than we originally thought.

Donny Osmond is My American Idol

My mom’s little neighbor saw DH at one of our restaurants the other day. She tugged at her mother’s arm and said, “I know that guy from somewhere.” While pointing to DH, the 5-year old brunette continued, “I think he’s on American Idol.”

Well, in case you did not already know, DH is not nor has he ever been on American Idol. In fact he is not famous at all. No one in our family is famous. Infamous? Yeah, there’s a couple, but not famous. And we live in Utah so we rarely get to see famous people. Oh, I know Robert Redford supposedly lives 8 miles down the road from me. And while I’ve been to his resort many, many times for dinners, concerts, and parties, I have disappointingly never even caught a glimpse of his shoelace.

So I was caught completely off guard the other day when D2’s neighbor friend was talking about her other friend with a famous uncle. I questioned the neighbor friend and asked, “What is he famous for?” “I guess he’s a really good singer. But I don’t know ‘cause I’ve never heard him sing,” she diplomatically replied. “Hmmm,” I prodded, “But you’re sure he’s famous?” “My friend says her uncle is very famous,” she assured me. “His name is Donny Osmond,” then with a shoulder shrug and with both palms facing up, she looks directly at my stunned face, “I know, I’ve never heard of him either.”

Da….Wh….Ah….OH MY HECK!!!! I had no idea that D2’s friend was hangin’ at Donny Osmond’s niece's house! He’s not just famous, he’s dreamy. "Paper Roses", oh how I love paper roses. I never missed a single episode of Donny and Marie growing up. Of course the ultimate was his performance in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, the DVD of which I own and watch in high definition on our 50” Sony purely for the astounding Biblical insight it provides.

It has been a couple days since D2’s friend broke me the news, but my stomach is still in knots. I’ve already decided I need to volunteer to be my neighbor girl’s full-time chauffeur for play dates and certainly all birthday parties. I’m thinking a birthday party at a famous person’s niece's house, would call for mandatory chaperoning, especially if the extended family is invited. And perhaps I could sneak off during Pin the Tail on the Donkey and see what old posters or purple socks are lurking in the basement. Oh, and my camera – I’ll definitely need that. Actually, maybe the Polaroid and a Sharpie, so Donny can autograph the birthday party photos. For D2’s friend, of course. Oooh, and I need some really good recording device so when he sings “Happy Birthday” I can capture the vocal and then I’ll sell it as an mp3 on iTunes. It is clear that I’ve got some planning to do.

You know, this is all really DH's fault. If only he had some kind of American Idol connection, I wouldn’t have to go to these great lengths just to stalk a celebrity.

Getting Old: AM Talk Radio and Jazz

My DH just celebrated his 40th birthday. I'm married to someone much older than I am. Okay, he is only two years and three months older, but older is older. Personally, I'd like to think that despite his unfortunate birthday, I am still quite young. While there are many times DH finds me to be a bit juvenile, he will admit that I can also act too mature for my age.

For example, I love to listen to Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Laura, and Glenn Beck. DH finds my talk radio addiction mildly humorous. He believes I should have waited until I was at least forty to be an AM talk radio junkie. By his count I started approximately ten years too soon. I'm just hoping (once again this year) to finally get XM Radio in the Yukon for my birthday. I detest that loud, fuzzy AM radio static I hear every time I drive by any sort of interference, such as a car with an antenna or a house with a microwave. It is so shrill and someday, it's going to ruin my hearing. I have no idea why my usually generous DH has held out on me, year after year, regarding this gift.

But I guess I've held out on DH as well, since I have yet to give him any kind of present for his regrettable birthday. It is hard to know what to buy the elderly. Even though he is old now, he aged way too fast while in his thirties too. I wish he would have waited to fall in love with jazz until after my funeral. Though I'm pretty sure he fell in love with Diana Krall first, and the jazz music adoration was just part of the package.

He's lucky I'm such a confident and secure woman, because Diana Krall is sultry. I know many wives that would be very jealous of their own DH buying every album Ms. Krall ever produced, travelling across the country to see her in concert twice in a 2-month period, hanging out in some dark alley of New York City for two hours after her concert just to watch her slip into a car with Elvis Costello (what does she see in him?), and watching "Diana Krall: Live in Paris" over and over and over again. Actually, when I think about it like that, if I weren't so tall and leggy with long blonde tresses and a musical prodigy myself, I would be jealous!

All right, so you know I'm not blonde. I must confess, I'm not tall either. And sadly, I have never, ever been referred to as "leggy." Well since I'm being so truthful, you should also know that even though D2 insists I need to try out for American Idol (don't you see why I just love her?) anyone who is not my elementary school-aged offspring, would never suggest such tryouts would be in my best interest.

So why am I not jealous of DH's affection for Diana Krall? Have you heard that lady sing? Her voice is getting worse every day. Frankly, I don't know how she sells any CD's. For the most part, her music sounds like that high-pitched AM radio static. Weird, huh?