It all started when we were watching the Olympics (for the fifteenth damn day in a row, I might add). Something called the four-man bobsled competition was on and suddenly my mom's head popped up from her stitching and she became transfixed with the guy that drives the silly contraption.
Normally I don't pay too much attention when the old lady sets her sights on some new piece of man meat, but this one put her right over the edge when she found out that she and this man share the same birth date. Please note I said birth DATE and not birth DAY. From what I can gather from the internets, Mom has underpants that are older than this guy.
In any event, she seems determined to meet and then kidnap Mr. Holcomb and bring him back to Chex Spinster for what can only presumably be refered to as a wedding "under extreme duress". Normally, I wouldn't worry too much about whatever cocka-mamie scheme my mom has dreampt up, but this time, she produced a picture of her intended groom and his groomsmen, and has now pasted it in her little book:
So that's the report for today. I hope that this little update will allow you to stop worrying about her (and me too, think you very much). We're fine...warm and safe and dry, without a watered drape in sight.
With love from your pal,