i have always been in touch with my inner hippie. much to my mother's chagrin.
now my mother is no shrinking violet. (obviously, if she raised me. but that's another post.) one day, she and her best friend, who, back in the 60's had the day before, joined the L.A.P.D., decided to drive up to Watts.
while the riots were going on.
hey. i said she wasn't a shrinking violet. i didn't say she was always smart.
but my mom, love her to death, has never really known what to do, or make, of me.
neither have i.
not enough of a rebel to be one, but not conservative enough to be one, either.
in other words, mediocre.
and that's OK.
now, where was i? oh yeah.
i guess i'm still enough of a rebel to have stopped caring what a lot of people think of me. like getting my nose pierced.
but over the weekend, it was the Husband's turn to do something different.
nope. no piercings. no ink.
he joined the NRA.
yep. the NRA.
they even gave him a hat.
but since opposites attract, i thought about what we could do for our Christmas cards this year.
me dressed as a hippie, with a flower wreath even. him with his rifle and NRA hat.
and maybe even a "Dick Chaney Shooting Club" shirt.
or am i?