Saturday, August 22, 2009

Lobster Love

We celebrated Mom's birthday. It was actually two days ago, but no one bought any presents so we postponed it. Joseph and I bought her a Swarovski flower set complete with a bear balancing a cake on its palm. Dad got all quiet and teary eyed, not because he was emotionally crippled by his love for his wife of twenty years, but because he was saddened by the fact that his children got him such crap birthday presents a mere twenty days ago. But, dad, it's the thought that counts.

Michael came over after the celebration. He ate my mom's birthday cake and downed the champagne. He's a classic example of underage drinking and turns red as a lobster after a few glasses. I don't know how I'm going to survive college without a bottle of champagne or wine a week. First of all, that's breaking all rules about being frugal, hands down. Unless I brew dirt-cheap wine or something... But then there's also that problem of underage drinking. Can I believe that the legal drinking age in the United States is twenty-one?!?! Maybe that's also why so many kids die of alcohol poisoning over there because the more rules that are set, the more that are broken.

After the family went to bed, Michael and I decided to just lay there on the bed with the champagne quite nearby (on the desk, actually). We talked about my gloomy future at Wellesley, his dad, and what I should send back from the States. Like, clothes and candy and such.

Oh, for you, Lobster Goose:

Nothing can go wrong tonight,
that one star so bright.

Side by side on the grass,
light is dim, your presence a

Stars sprinkled across that
dark blue sky strung with soft
clouds and a glowing moon.

Turning towards you,
I catch a smile in the net of
my heart.

Nothing can go wrong tonight,
that one star so bright.

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