I really did post and entry here yesterday.  I did!  But, my computer is still in the midst of it’s unmedicated nervous breakdown and refused to cooperate.  So now that entry is cavorting around in some other dimension with all of my missing unmatched socks.  Must be quite a party there!  So anyway, if either one of my two readers are still stopping by, HI!  I am not dead, institutionalized or in prison.  (Yet.)

For as long as I can remember my parents have had the same brand of calendar in their home.  It truly is a beautiful calendar.  Holidays or special days of note are marked with small artistic illustrations.  They aren’t necessarily themed to the holiday, but are used more to catch your eye and make the date more noticable. 

Having a birthday early in November (the 7th) there are years that my birthday falls on election day.  (For those of you playing the home game, that would be this Sunday.  I know.  It snuck up on you again.  That’s okay.  Consider yourself reminded.) So, being the egocentric child that I was (as most children are) I noticed that there was a cute little picture on my birthday.  On MY birthday.  Wow.  The calendar maker put a picture on MY birthday just like the other holidays throughout the year.  I was just so excited! Running to my mom I shouted excitedly, “Mommy!  My birthday is a national holiday on this calendar!”

Somehow my mother stifled her giggle and shared in my excitement with me.  (Why dash the hopes of an egocentric little girl who feels the world revolves around her?) As I stared at the picture I began to realize that it wasn’t a pretty butterfly or pony or cute little animal that marked my birthday.  It was a skunk.  A SKUNK for crying out loud.  Now that just wasn’t nice.  I looked to my mom and asked her why they chose a skunk to mark that day?  Why?  Why a skunk? 

Mom keeping the sympathetic straight face just looked at me in a confused way as if she couldn’t understand why a skunk would upset me.  “Well, it is a cute skunk, honey.”

“But Mooommmmmm,” I wailed, “It’s a skunk.  A stupid, stinky, yucky skunk.  I don’t want a skunk. I want a butterfly!”

To her credit, Mom never cracked.  She just let me rant.  Occassionally adding in a comment along the lines of “But it is a cute skunk.” (Is it any wonder why I am a smart-ass parent?  I come by it honestly!)

I have had other election days fall on my birthday since that year.  Not once has it been marked with a skunk again.  However, not a year has gone by that I haven’t gotten something from my Mom with a skunk on it.  Whether it is merely a skunk sticker, a skunk stuffed animal or even one year a skunk invaded my treasured Precious Moments collection.  (A Precious Moments skunk?! Oh the horror!)

Even now, years (oh sure I could say decades, but that would just be cruel, wouldn’t you say?) one of the first things I do when I get my new calendar is to check and see if maybe, just maybe, I get another skunk on my birthday.  So far, no luck.  But I have hope.  One day, I will get my Skunk Day again!

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