Write on, Yo Mama Morris!: Listen up, kids. I don't want to have to say this again.

The light fixture overhead is loose. Hopefully, I'll finish this blog post before I'm rendered unconscious or worse -- which is exactly why I'm writing.

Talk about irony.

We survived Blossom 2009. For you out-of-towners, Blossom is Chagrin Falls' five-day Memorial Day Weekend celebration filled with food, rides, hot air balloon races, parades, entertainment and good ol' fun. What's not on the press release is all the mandatory drinking that goes on in between the local mayhem. To say Blossom is fun yet exhausting and taxing on the liver is an understatement.

As we rolled home last night from our last party of the weekend, Mike and I reflected on how much fun we had. We realized it was because the kids behaved. They could have made our lives hell at a number of Blossom events, but they didn't. So, I drank. I got a little tipsy. And I told them how much I loved them. How embarrassing. Evidently, the emotional outpouring facilitated by alcohol isn't just reserved for people you want to hook up with.

Don't worry. I'm not going to blather on about how my kids are the best in the world. That would be annoying. Plus, my kids have my genes and that's a liability. However, what I will say is that the Doobies are doing remarkably well considering the genetic handicap that's been handed to them.

So, after we tucked them into bed really, really late last night. And they didn't wake up really, really early this morning, I decided to write them a post in case I seize up from liver failure -- which would really be their fault. I would never have drank so much if they hadn't behaved. (How's that for guilt?)

So, Doobies, when you are old enough to read this, I want you to know that you rock. I'd like to take all the credit for how cool you are, but I can't. Your Mama is a misfit. The fact that I got two super great kids is probably all of Mike's doing or your own. Maybe I can take credit for your wacky sense of humor (that no one gets) and active imaginations, but that's about it. So, kudos to you for how awesome you are and for your great Blossom-time behavior. You deserve every piece of candy you scored at the parade. Too bad I'll never let you eat all of it.

Thanks my little friends for making every day easy and exciting. (And, thank you Madan for interrupting me just now to demonstrate how a chameleon's eyes work independently. Keep trying. You'll look like Marty Feldman eventually.)

You guys are great kids and because of you, life is great fun.