Despite the fact that I cannot usually remember what happened on last week’s episode of “Real Housewives,” I have worked my tuschy off to compile an exhaustive list of the most important happenings in 2009. Don’t thank me. It’s a public service. Really.
January: Is it just me or does it seem like January 2009 happened a full year ago? You know, people just do not understand how many brain cells you lose when you become a mom. Oh, that’s it. Octomom popped out her puppies in January. Yeah, that says a whole lot about 2009, doesn’t it?
February: Junior had a birthday and officially became a teenager. Shockingly, his metamorphosis from sweet, non-teen boy into semi-surly teenager didn’t cause our house to implode. Of course, we’re only in the beginning of the surly teenager phase. Consider yourself warned if you live within a two-block radius. In other, clearly not as important news, the economy kept falling and a bunch of idiots on Wall Street starting pointing fingers at everyone from former President Clinton to you and me.
March: A bunch of economic stuff happened. Of the 700 billion or so given to banks the previous month, not a penny went to the average citizen, causing congress to be shocked and amazed that the economy didn’t instantly improve. Go figure. In our house, the teenager became a little less surly. Good news for the whole house-imploding thing.
April: Everybody started to panic over swine flu, decimating the entire spring break industry, which relies on an endless supply of topless, drunken teenagers to support Florida, Mexico and California. Unfortunately, those topless, drunken teens were afraid of the swine flu and not just because of the rumors concerning fraternity guys and pigs. As for my teen—he was less surly and not at all swiney.
May: A long shot wins the Kentucky Derby, ticking off gamblers across the country, except the one person smart enough to bet on a 50-1 horse. Sadly, I wasn’t that person. Nor was the teen, who wasn’t even surly about it.
June: Michael Jackson died, prompting his original—and now aging–fans to perform the dance from “Thriller” in public. Ankles were sprained, backs went out, hips were thrust and then stuck in that position. And school released for summer, thus beginning my descent into the horrifying world of “Mom, I’m bored.”
July: Cash for Clunkers is started and I begged Hubby to take advantage. Sadly, Hubby won and I still drive the oldest car in the neighborhood. Oh, and surly teen? Officially back and living in our home.
August: Hello? The big event clearly was my birthday, which caused celebrations in every corner of the planet. Or possibly just my town. Okay, fine. Just in my house. In any event, Junior’s surliness disappeared overnight. Happy birthday to me.
September: After lots of angst from everyone, President Obama gave a controversial speech in which he told all children to be surly and cheat on their algebra tests. Oh, wait. That wasn’t it. After lots of angst from everyone, the president told kids to stay in school. In other news, people discovered they actually could not predict the future, nor could they read the president’s mind. If you’re wondering, Junior heard the speech and was shockingly not surly about it.
October: Some idiot parents fooled the nation into thinking their child was flying around Colorado in a weather balloon. In my world, my son decided to make a haunted backyard for Halloween. Upon returning from a 20-minute trip to the grocery store, I discover he dismantled the fountain, trampled plants, dragged numerous boxes out of the garage and in general ticked me off. Why, hello surly teen. You were missed. Where’s a weather balloon when you need one?
November: For the first time in years, we did not run out of gravy on Thanksgiving. Our guests were thrilled—or at least happy-ish. Not so happy was Tiger Woods when his wife discovered he didn’t understand the meaning of “fidelity” in English or Swedish. In completely unrelated news, Tiger’s wife, Elin, invented a new game called “beating the crap out of the SUV with a golf club.”
December: More women than I care to count came forward to claim intimate knowledge of Tiger’s club (please, did you think I wouldn’t go there?) In a shocking display of the new frugality, I used my VISA only once during the holiday season. Hubby rejoiced. Junior gave up surliness for the holidays—which could change any time, of course.
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