May 9th, 2008


We wrote a story

Me, Rob, Jen and Gayle.

It is called "37th birthday"

So, I was at work and we were having cake.
When all of a sudden, I felt a clammy hand on my breast, and I said “That’s my cake. You can’t have any.”
And he replied, “On the contrary; I already have my cake.” As he squeezed firmly, I felt my childhood slipping away.
I thought back to that time in the park, when my teddy bear “Maurice” decided that he would like to “experiment”. That was a most unusual day. In fact, very similar to today. I looked down at the hand on my breast, and thought a little more about what I should say next.

My cake was beginning to squish into my fingers, I don’t really like that gooey way it goes. What should I do? Should I eat the cake? Perhaps I should say something about the hand on my breast. I don’t know, this sort of situation always makes me uncomfortable. I think I’ll just gaze out the window for a few moments and see what happens.

Hmm, the hand is still there, and my cake situation is getting worse.

This was almost as bad as last year’s birthday.

I miss Maurice.