Jim’s Rant For The Day. Bitch Of The Year Party Revisited.

Folks I am waiting for all hell to break loose beginning today so I thought I would lighten things up in the lull of waiting.

Tomorrow is my birthday and yesterday I received a beautiful homemade card from one of my favorite sisters, the artist of the group. The card had a photo of me that I had never seen before. I was around thirty-three and a typical dull super conservative CPA at the time. The occasion was our first big Bitch Of The Year Party.

Let me remind you that I have one brother and seven beautiful sisters. We grew up in a large old home in which I often portray that there were so many kids that my parents could not afford toys for us. If my brother and I were not born as boys we would not have had anything at all to play with. Although what we lacked in toys we were blessed by attributes of our parents. My father gave us all pig-headedness and my mother taught us to laugh.

Half of the gang was in town one night and on my living room floor drinking liquid livations and discussing which one of my sisters was the biggest bitch. Now let me make this clear, none of them has ever acted “bitchy” and what we were lovingly discussing was which one was the most pig-headed and the strongest leader. We selected one but for two years were afraid to tell her. My Mom let it slip. She was at first hurt but then demanded a revote. The next time the whole gang was in town she hosted the first formal contest (so she could control the vote I think).

When I saw the picture I asked my sister what the heck I was wearing because I never wore suspenders. She said “That drunk was wearing a tie of all things that he threw over his shoulder so he would not soil it! Why on earth would he be formally dressed for the occasion - oops I know why - love and respect for his sisters!!!” After she said that I recall trying to hang myself with my tie but I couldn’t find the damn thing!

On a personal note, I was a rotten, irritating horrible kid that was lucky to survive in that home. I was also by far, the worst student. At report card times I was always the first one to get the beating. But by the time my Father finished with me he was too frustrated and tired from trying to make me cry. Thus the ritual was over and my siblings skated until the next report card. I guess that’s why they never killed me.

Like all other families, we fought, irritated, picked on and crowded each other. But the thing I remember the most about my childhood was we really laughed a lot together. I have always attributed the habit of laughing for all of our excellent health over the years. And so too it was with the Bitch Of The Year parties; we got drunk together and god how we laughed!

Thank you for the trip back home Judy!