Fanning the flames of the dysfunction.

I was at Target yesterday picking up a yoga mat for the yoga class I'm starting tonight.* I walked by the card section and figured I should pick up mothers day cards while I was thinking of it.

If you've read my blog the last several months you shouldn't be surprised to hear me say that picking out a mothers day card for my own mother was not easy. There was no way I was going to get her one of those flowers, you are so wonderful, I'm so lucky to have you, I love you, blah, blah, blah kinda cards.

I perused the cards, I muttered to myself about the lack of appropriate passive-aggressive cards for dysfunctional families like mine. I started to get a little depressed.

And then I found it. The perfect card. Tasteful graphics, simple, to the point.

On the front of the card it shows a tree. At the top it says "To mom on mothers day"

Under the tree it says "They say the nut doesn't fall far from the tree..."

Inside it says "and that scares the hell out of me."

Am fairly certain my mother will NOT see the humor in it.

Am almost as certain that I DON'T fucking care! Well, at least not enough to not send it.

Am also certain that I'm not nearly as mature as I should be.


*Tell me this isn't the greatest name for a yoga class "You don't have to be teeny to be a yogini," also know as "yoga for round people."