Monday, December 1, 2008

My Timing is Impeccable

Back in the day, the Baroness was quite possibly one of the worst time managers ever. Always late, always rushing hither and thither, always back-peddling, trying in vain to magically squeeze all the things needing to be done into a much smaller time frame.

And then she met the Baron, who taught her the value of a minute and of organization and how to be respectful through promptness. Her world changed for the better.

Imagine how excited I was when I realized that American Thanksgiving fell on a Thoughtful Thursday - my timing would be impeccable - I had the perfect quote ready. It was tacked up on our kitchen magnetic board, patiently waiting to be shared.

Imagine my confoundedness when I smugly strode in to retrieve it, and it was no longer there.

The Baroness is not amused when something takes the buzz off of her smugness. Especially whilst she is both striding and smug-ging. It throws her equilibrium completely out of whack.

I did have the presence of mind to quickly call the person who gave the quote to me in the first place; he apparently has delusions of American-deur and was off snarfing up poultry and pumpkin pie.

After leaving desperate messages, I finally received the fax.


Dude does not realize how committed I am to keeping my readers sated and inspired. You must know that I really did try to be on time with this, but like old times had to scramble around to make it work. I should say that I am sorry.

Rather than backsliding into once again feeling insincerely apologetic, I'll instead choose to be thankful that most everyone's next turkey event is only 24 days away; consider this an early Christmas present.

I just hope you don't have any allergies to peanuts.

May we be like Charlie Brown,
having the courage to get back into the ball game
even if we don't win, because we love the game.

May we be like Linus,
not afraid to carry our blanket
to name the wisdom that sometimes,
we need to lean on a higher power.

May we be like Lucy,
willing to admit that sometimes we are crabby
and we wish everyone would just do things our way
even though we know the world is bigger than us.

May we be like Pig Pen,
happy to just be who we are
no matter what other people think we should be.

May we be like Snoopy,
celebrating each time the supper dish comes,
with joy in the feast and readiness to dig in!

(in case it isn't obvious, I am Lucy and Lucy is me)


Mental P Mama said...

I would like to be more Linusesque. Thanks;)

Blog Antagonist said...

My husband thinks the reason I can't do every. friggen. thing. is because I have time management issues. I don't. I just have too flippin much to do.

But anyway...cute poem. I think Lucky and I might share a few traits.

{i}Post said...

I am thinking I am the Great Pumpkin. Or perhaps the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. Such things to ponder....

Baroness von B said...

Countess MPM: I am quite happy being Lucy-esque, but would be thrilled to share the vanPelt name with you.

Countess BA: The doctor is in! Tell me all about it. I think that you having too much to do must have something to do with your mother. Or being a mother. Wait. Let me consult my books; I'll get back to you.

Countess iPost: I <3 the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree! I would be the first one there with the blanket to put around your base, hon.

Not Afraid to Use It said...

That is just awesome! I'm glad you posted it!

wrh said...

May we be like Marcy, and refrain from telling Peppermint Patty (or your relative who tells the same stories over and over again and has crazy eyes and smells like tomato soup) that she is a passive aggressive naggy pain in the ass and that as soon as she comes out of the closet she will feel much better.

Baroness von B said...

Countess NATUI: I am so glad you like it - it goes fabulously with some Cab and leftover pumpkin pie, I hear.

Countess WRH: Just like Anonymous to be all homophobic. I'd completely forgotten about PP and Marcy.

BTW, I read your comment while I was waiting in the lab to have some bloodwork done - I guffawed out loud, and got some weird looks from my fellow patients - apparently being poked or dropping off pee is no laughing matter.

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