Sunday afternoon, we celebrated the 26th birthday of my child bride.
In fact, we had a few things to celebrate that day: first, Corb's birthday, but also, the fact that he was just accepted into architectural school, and will be starting next week. So, I'm also involved with a college student again, too. Make of that what you will.
To repay all the surprise birthdays that Corb has thrown--and wonderfully, may I add--I pathetically attempted to stage a little surprise party of my own, at Hibachi's, a Japanese restaurant. You know, one of THOSE restaurants, where the cook chops up eggs and meatstuffs in front of you (love that word, meatstuffs), then juggles all of them in the air, pops them into his pocket, bounces them on his chef's hat after which they land, splat, onto the flaming grill in front of him and then voila! It's supper.
I say, pathetically. I mean, I did my best, but I'll never be as good as Corb is at arranging a party. Ask me to direct a play, I'll hand you over a three-ring circus this side of Orson Wells and Around the World in Eighty Days, complete with Japanese chef, but ask me to arrange for a simple surprise party, and I get all weak in the knees.
But I think I did...okay. Not Corb okay, but okay for me. And so, at three in the afternoon, we're all sitting in a private room at Hibachi's, watching the nice Japanese man cut and chop and juggle, and suddenly, out of the blue...
HE walked in the room.
Who he? Ha?
He's Jorge, a two foot tall stuffed puppy, with big blue eyes, pink ribbons in his ears, and a pair of huge pink wings flapping around his back.
I tell you, it was love at first sight.
He was carried in by Corb's friends Colleen and Kelly, who are two beautiful blonds who have never heard the words "you're shut off" in their lives. Dean Martin should be resting well in his grave, knowing that these two crazy hootch-guzzling vixens are around.
"Meet Jorge," Colleen announced, plopping him down next to Corb and placing a glittering tiara on top of his head. "He's our bastard lesbian love child."
"We realized we were bad parents, so we're passing over the parental rights to you, Corb," said Kelly.
"Your bastard lesbian love child?" I asked.
"Yes," said Colleen. "We conceived him in Kelly's pool."
I just had to know. "Did you use a turkey baster?" I asked.
Even the Japanese chef looked at us strangely.
Strange looks or not, I have to admit, we've sort of grown fond of Jorge. We've had all sorts of fun with him. After going out for a few drinks with Colleen and Kelly, we came home that night to discover that Josie had posed him in the bathroom, squatting over the toilet.
Tuesday afternoon, I came home to find him reading "Your Heiress Diary," by Paris Hilton. This is truly one dog who has a love for the classics! (Sample sentence: "One of my heroes is Barbie. She may not do anything, but she looks amazing doing it." Take that, William Faulkner!)
But my favorite moment (so far) with Jorge took place Monday night, as Corb tucked himself in to go to sleep. "You look need something, really bad," I said, trying to sound like a porn star. I knelt down and picked up Jorge, and plopped into bed, right next to Corb. "There! Now you look totally complete. Goodnight."
As I was exiting the room, I felt Jorge hit me on the back. I whirled around.
"You just threw Jorge!" I yelled. "How mean!"
Corb tried to look as innocent as possible. "I didn't threw him!" he said. "Look, he has wings! He flew over to you because he wanted to BE with you."
"You threw him! You're a bad father!"
"No, he FLEW over to you..."
I picked Jorge up and placed him next to Corb again. "There. He just told me he wanted to be snuggling next to you, again," I said, patted him on the head, and turned to leave the room.
Splat! Jorge hit me on the back, the minute I got to the door.
"He spread his wings and flew again!" yelled Corb.
Dammit, we must have played that game for a good half an hour.
Which was all well and good, until I entered the bedroom later on that night, and this is what I saw...
I tell you, Corb had some major splaining to do.
So anyways, that's Jorge, the newest member of our family. Now we've got the two of us, three kids, an ex-wife, two cats, and a gray puppy with pink wings. Talk about diversity! What could we add next, I wonder?
Waitaminute! What would happen if Jorge met...Rrrrramalita?