His belated birthday greeting was as sincere

His belated birthday greeting was as sincere as he could make it, six months late. He'd been meaning to get around to giving her the gift he'd bought a month late, but until she

shut her yap she wouldn't get anything. She had been talking for 7 months straight. So he had forgotten her name when introducing her to his parents. Was that any reason to carry

on and on about how much he doesn't appreciate her? Why should he care what she thought of his hair? If she keeps talking like she is he will just leave her there.

Of course if he did that he would never hear the end of it. He probably shouldn't care about that either, but the truth was, he needed her. He always

allowed himself such a moment of candor, to put words to those feelings. He'd never be able to forget. Even if he could, they'd never allow him to live it down

enough to return to the macrame class with his head held high. Some things you can think but never say, such as

"I really wish I knew what the hell macrame was." Head high, I traipsed through the wilderness to grandmother's house. There, in the woods ahead of me, was a cat with just a bit of

honey candy stuck to it's ass. "That ain't no litter and you're not just whistling Dixie", she laughed. Then she passed out on Dixie.

Dixie looked down at her, stuck to his now horribly matted fur. Honey candy was the worst, and he had finally had it with her jacking up his dry cleaning bill.