MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE MUG!

The mug my mother gave me when I graduated high school and moved away. I’ve used it almost every single day since.

I picked up the pieces and gently placed them back on the counter where they sat for two days. Partly because I’m lazy, and partly because I’m sentimental as shit when it comes to anything my mom give me… with the exclusion of guilt trips.

Tonight I realized there was no way to fix the mug, so I sucked it up and threw it away. I felt sick afterward. SICK over a silly, little coffee cup.

The point? I’m not freaking dead inside after all. But I am really damn thirsty.

Comments (7)

©Sarah Nielson—Tales of Wit and Charm All Rights Reserved...Or Else

Broken Mug, Broken Heart is a post from: Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm. Click here to read comments!

“Gross, Mom, why did you call to tell me this?”

“Because I just saw it.”

“That doesn’t mean I need to hear about it! Besides, I’m two hours away from you. I’m not sure what I can do to help.”

“I think maybe the dog did it, but I’m not positive.”

“Is there hard evidence it was the dog?”

“No, so it could have been the neighbor’s dog.”

“Mom, this is starting to sound like a country Clue board game and is sort of freaking me out.”

I still don’t understand the need for a dead cat phone call, but I’m grateful for every phone conversation I have with my mom.

I absolutely adore her.

So much that I would drive the two hours to her house just to clean up an animal carcass from her lawn. Actually I’d take it a step further: I love my mom enough that I’d call one of my brothers and have them take care of it. True love means loving my mom enough to not emotionally scar her only daughter.

Comments (3)

©Sarah Nielson—Tales of Wit and Charm All Rights Reserved...Or Else

A Daughter’s Love Knows No Bounds is a post from: Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm. Click here to read comments!

After having some car troubles, yesterday, I sucked it up and called him for help. We discussed all the problems my car could be having and then he asked about school. I did something I don’t EVER do with him… I opened up. I expressed my academic fears and frustrations. He listened and offered some sound advice. There were no lectures. None. He could have easily told me to be smarter, or study harder, but he didn’t. This behavior is very uncharacteristic on both of our parts.

We ended our conversation and then something magical happened, he told me he loved me. I know he loves me, but I haven’t heard him vocalize that love since I was a young child. We hung up, and as I set the phone down I started to cry. For once my tears were tears of happiness.

This is the most progress my dad and I have made in decades. And suddenly I don’t care if I pass the troublesome class or not—the important thing is that my education brought my dad and I together, if only for a moment. That alone is worth every single cent of my tuition.

Comments (17)

©Sarah Nielson—Tales of Wit and Charm All Rights Reserved...Or Else

A Father’s Love is a post from: Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm. Click here to read comments!

The vet clinic didn’t get the memo that a vodka tonic is the epitome of a refreshing drink. As for me? Well I didn’t get the memo that when the receptionist asks you if you would like a refreshing drink she means a warm Sprite, not a bottle of vodka and straw. Another refreshing drink is champagne, which should always be served immediately after informing a worried dog owner that her beloved pug is cancer-free. Daisy does, however, have a a sludge-filled gallbladder, major food allergies and irritable bowel syndrome.

The vet called her a little shit for giving us such a scare. I called the vet a big shit when he told me to keep an ass journal for Daisy. Apparently he’d like to read about the consistency of Daisy’s feces while enjoying a nightcap with his wife. I’d much rather get him a subscription to an interesting magazine, but whatever floats his boat, and keeps my dog alive.

While I’m thrilled there’s nothing serious wrong with her, I’m realistic enough to know we’re in for the long haul here. Daisy’s disgusting farts aren’t going anywhere. And neither is my love for her, although my savings account is. My fart filled apartment has never felt more like home. I’m happy to have the little shit back, but if anyone has any information on the market for one-eyed pug porn let me know. Daisy needs a job. And preferebly one with health benefits.

Comments (16)

©Sarah Nielson—Tales of Wit and Charm All Rights Reserved...Or Else

A Shit-Filled Memo is a post from: Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm. Click here to read comments!