Not that there weren't some good times 2009, but honestly? We're not going to miss you all that much.
The children took up strange and ancient interests but never once remembered to put a napkin under their glasses.
We almost learned to use the remote control, but lost interest in the first 15 minutes of everything that wasn't figure skating, Clive Owen or Californication.
Not that we were immune from all of pop culture's charms. We jostled outside a theater in New York to throw ourselves at a handsome English actor, shared a moment backstage with a handsome English rock star and celebrated the 445th birthday of an English playwright who, as it turns out, was a bit of man candy himself.
April in South Beach was pretty close to perfect despite the invisibility a B-cup imposes in that part of the world. We had to climb over the woodwork to fetch our own napkins at the tiki bar while bartenders carved fresh fruit into zoo animals for the Suburban Executive's drinks.
The summer brought us planeload after planeload of middle schoolers who left wrappers, dirty socks and half-eaten pizza in every room of the house, but who reminded us of what is really important: being able to send our children off to their parents.
We answered some of the big questions like who buys 64 ounces of ketchup?
We brought you epicurean delights like Peeps martinis, tried to trick our husband into buying us a vacuum cleaner for Mother's Day and shared the kind of parenting advice for which actual results may vary.
Along the way, we collected you: The funniest, strangest and most uncooperative group of blog readers anywhere on the Internet.
With your support and comments, our efforts to be funny were often completely derailed. Your digressions carried us far from shore, sunk the paddles and disabled the satellite navigation system.
But you are still here, and for that we are vowing even greater
security measures things in 2010.
Happy New Year,
Are you kidding? It will take Bossy twelve months to learn to type 2010. That should keep Bossy plenty busy without the pesky ambition of year expectations.
Love to the fam.
Posted by: BOSSY | January 01, 2010 at 04:27 PM
You’re my hero - I mean heroin. Speaking of which, I’m not double dosing on the meds this year; in fact, I’m not taking any meds at all. I’m going on “the natch.” It’s not all about me and what I want anymore, it’s about whatchaya get. You get Ronnie in the Raw (something like unplugged). No matter what, we’re having fun.
Posted by: Audubon Ron | January 02, 2010 at 02:00 AM
I buy 64 ounce Ketchup bottles. AND OVALTINE.
i am 95 years old.
And I'm GOING to meet you in 2010, so help me god.
Posted by: Mr Lady | January 02, 2010 at 12:24 PM
All I know is there's no cure for a Peeps Martini hangover. None. What wisdom will the next 5000 years bring...
Posted by: nthnglsts | January 02, 2010 at 06:47 PM
Hair of the bunny?
Posted by: Suburban Kamikaze | January 03, 2010 at 02:26 PM
I think the security measures failed. Audubon Ron is still here. ;-)
We aren't uncooperative...we're opinionated. (And quite possibly pushy and very interested in your PEACH TILE.)
Posted by: Forgotten | January 06, 2010 at 12:40 PM
We are never getting off this island.
Posted by: Suburban Kamikaze | January 06, 2010 at 04:15 PM