Whew! Yesterday we had a surprise party for my mom’s 70th. We’ve been planning this for nearly 2 months so it’s a big load off to be past it, but it was pretty fun. About 40 people in my house (and 4 dogs, but the 3 loud ones were shunted to the basement and the geriatric Desi got to wander around and get ALL the pets and everything that fell).
It’s funny, but when you’re a kid 70 seems like ‘at Death’s door’, then you get older and 50 doesn’t seem so badd, 70 is the new 60, etc, etc. lol.
She’s not fond of being the centre of attention…thought she’d cuss us out big time after everyone had gone :D
At least I won’t have to make lunches for a week (sooooo much food!!!)

TEXT:

Evil yelped and tired to steady them but she pitched over and dropped the plate. Prozac was ready and caught her deftly, forgoing the sandwich which Tanked, in some never before shared acrobatic ability, twisted to the ground and caught with his mouth, plate and all. He managed to swallow the whole thing and choke on the plate at the same time but Gimp was there to rescue him. 

Cara had thrown her arms around his neck, but she stared forlornly into his eyes. “I’m sorry! We’ll get you another one!” Prozac rested his head against hers and felt a profound sense of peace. “No need, I just want you.” She melted against him and all thoughts of infighting and dastardly plots flew from his mind.

The room erupted in retching noises and popcorn dinged off his back but he was rather pleasantly distracted and waved absently in Nerd’s general direction. The purple bear clued in and promptly yelled that the meeting was adjourned and everybody should just clear out, you all have assignments, etc, etc. There was the inevitable push back about who should be ordering whom about and logical 2nd in commands and more shushing, and what sounded like a round of shin kicking, but it eventually all faded to extremely obnoxious back ground noise.

Prozac figured tomorrow was early enough to begin Operation: Shit hits the fan.

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