Magnet for the Absurd

Doorbell rings. Dog barks. UPS man drives away. And there on my front stoop is a big old box from Cafepress.com.

Hmmm, what can this be? I open it up and there are 16 neatly wrapped identical square packages. I open the first one and there it is… the perfect MFTA mug.

Thanks to (uncle) Neal, who not only named me the MFTA but is not under any circumstances my uncle – and I still have no idea why we call him that. But he is surely as much my family as anyone who carries my bloodline. And knows me better than most.

The best part of this story is poor Neal had shoulder surgery last week and under the influence of some pretty crazy prescription drugs did not realize that instead of ordering 4 mugs he was ordering 4 sets of 4 mugs. I am thinking of planning an absurdity brunch. Imagine the criteria for an invitation!

Once again… I am the magnet for the absurd.

Thanks Neal, for the mugs, and for truly appreciating the finer points of my insanity. Love you, man.