My daughter (9) was hurriedly writing a paper for school last night. I looked over her shoulder and noticed it was looking oh so messy.

I said, “Charlotte, why is one word of your title normal size while the other is huge? And, why do I not see capitals in your title or beginning your sentences?”

Long pause.

Then came her glowing, perfect response, “This is just my first draft, Mom. I wasn’t gonna turn this in.”

Good save, Grasshopper. Good save.

This is my 200th entry in my blog. I’m celebrating my bicentennial*! Yay! Someone call the Franklin Mint so they can commemorate me in fine pewter, ok?

You’re nobody until somebody loves you OR until you are commemorated in fine pewter, whichever comes first.

When you call, make sure they understand I don’t want a coin. I want a statue. Something tasteful, yet striking.

I’ll trust to your judgment on the specifics. My only particular request is that I’d like the craftsman to avoid that Han Solo encased in carbonite look if at all possible. Just make sure whoever happens to be rendering my likeness has never worked for either the DMV or the Empirial Forces, and we should have no worries there.

Anyway, even if I don’t get a statue or a coin or an engraved placard that proclaims my blogginess, I have wonderful readers who comment on my silly posts, and that should be enough for me…In fact, it is enough for me.

So, forget the statue. What is pewter, anyway? It’s probably made out of people! You scoff now, but nobody suspected that about soylent green either. Everybody bought the seaweed story until it was too late. Just wait. You’ll see. They don’t call me the oracle for nothing.

*If you want to get all technical, I haven’t been blogging for two centuries, so it’s not really a bicentennial. But, I’ll call it what I want, dammit. It’s my stupid blog! Are you lookin’ at me? I don’t see anyone else here, so you must be lookin’ at me.

I’m agnostic, but I love Christmas. I’m all about duality. Sue me if ya gotta. Anyway, I always decorate the house to the nth degree on the first of December.

Today my decor will go from “simple modern” to “tacky maximus” in one hour flat.

So, why are Christmas decorations so gaudy? The only answer I can come up with is this:

Jesus loved his bling bling.

Our dog can’t read.