Have you ever had something from your past rubbed in your face? To be completely humiliated to the point where you just want to have a good cry with Oprah? Well I have, here’s how it went down. Apparently, the little hippie, I mean girl, they call Summer, is having a birthday! Saturday afternoon, I‘m kicked back, ready to have some mom and dad time, when people started showing up at the house. Right off the bat, mom started with the whole (big paw air quotes) “rescue” story. If I heard once “she was a rescue,” I heard it a thousand times! I felt like jumping up and saying “please, tell us Batman, where did you rescue me from? I’m sure there’s some Chilean miners who could use your rescuing skills about now!“ After the whole rescue story, I had to put up with mom telling everyone “she stinks.” Really? I stink? I never noticed! My stinking, leads old loose lips to her next story about how those bladderless bunnies peed on me while I was looking for a fix! How’s a girl supposed to gain any street cred if your more embarrassing moments from the past are thrown in your face every time you turn around? As if matters could not have become more embarrassing, the furball started doing tricks like some kind of show pony. He began with jumping, high on the sliding glass door. Everybody started oohing and aahing, talking about how high furball could jump. Then he moved on to the crying on command, which just made everybody laugh! Finally, the party came to an end, and with the exception of a few stragglers, everybody went home. I thought, hey, maybe Saturday wasn’t the best day, but there’s always Sunday, right? Oh nooo, Mardi Gras doesn’t last as long as the little hippie girl‘s birthday celebration! Sunday afternoon we started the process all over again with another party; rescue, rescue, stink, stink, pee, pee, jump, jump, cry, cry, just with a whole new group of people! Anyway, I have no more dignity, I now know how George Michaels must feel! Gotta go go!