you have got to be kidding me.

So yesterday's mail included a curious envelope addressed to myself and the boy in the X's handwriting. Since it is addressed to the boy as well as myself I am positive it is not a nasty-gram of any kind. Honestly, if it hadn't had the boy's name on it I probably wouldn't have opened it anyways. I would have just tossed it aside unopened just as I do every month when the rent receipt showed up.

Curiosity got the better of me and I opened it to find a cheesy baby shower invitation. WHAT are they smoking? I am SO not going to their baby shower. Neither is the boy. He isn't interested. I did let him know that the invite showed up and he told me to just go back into the kitchen. {that is his newest way of informing me that he doesn't want to discuss whatever it is} I am supposed to RVSP regrets only to the X's mother. She lives less than a mile away from my new house and has yet to set foot over here in spite of the fact that the X's father has been here numerous times. I am SO not phoning her.

Did I mention that the shower is being held at the X's uncles house and will be a whole big family affair? I am sure that my presence would put everyone at ease, right? I just shake my head at the insanity of this family.

I checked out their baby registries just to see the items they are requesting and was disgusted to see that in the notes on each registry they have written that these babies are their *miracle boys*. Miracles? ummmmm. I don't think that jumping through hoops so that you can get sperm and egg together in a petri dish constitutes a miracle but rather a science experiment. I hope that MY miracle son never sees that they have referred to these new babies as miracles. It makes me sad for my son. No tricks to get him. Just the old fashioned miracle of life. MY miracle son. I will continue to do whatever I have to do to make sure that he understands just how wonderful I know he is.