Sure. It would be better if it rhymed. But I wasn’t too happy with “tanks,” “spanks” or “stanks” … so here’s what we’re working with today.
Remember my post about Dean’s gigantic school project for which we have joint custody with another family? Yeah? Well, the saga continues. I mean, it seemed only right. We’ve had the ginormous thing for two weeks now and today is their son’s birthday. So the project traveled back to its original owners, this time with a birthday hat and, of course, the requisite note.
Please allow us to be the first to wish Dean’s-friend-and-project-partner* a very happy 13th birthday. Today, he is a man (teenager … whatever). And with this momentous occasion comes responsibility, accolades and celebration. We can think of no better way to recognize all three of these milestones than by bestowing on you our highest honor.
The Giant Hershey Bar.
Please know that we do not request that it be returned. For, although we love the Giant Hershey Bar as though it were our own child, we must be the bigger man here. And, as the old saying goes, if you love something, set it free! (I don’t think there’s anything more to the saying than that. Just the whole setting it free business.)
Also, we feel the Giant Hershey Bar (henceforth regarded as GHB) deserves a stable home. All of this bouncing around from house to house is tearing it apart. And it will likely take a toll on its overall wellbeing before long. We cannot be responsible for this corruption.
So it is with great reflection and regard for GHB that we humbly bestow it to you on this … the anniversary of the birth of your other child. God speed, GHB. When you think of us, please know that all we did we did in love.
The Poche Family
*Names withheld to protect the “innocent”
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Lagniappe for my fellow Arrested Development fans
NOTE: If you’re not a fan of the show, you won’t get it. And you’ll probably think I’m comparing my boy to the iconic 80s deviant of the same name. I’m not.
Dave and Dean were charged with making the drop last night. Dave was into it, but my boy (who we lovingly dubbed George Michael years ago) was a little nervous about the propriety of it all. Great kid. SO much more responsible than either of his parents. (Sigh)