Sticky Business

I groaned when I discovered the missing pile of hi-jacked mail (my husband retrieved the mail and left it in the deep, dark, abyss called his office only to mysteriously surface many months later on my desk). Wincing, I slowly peeked with one eye at the several invitations for parties, weddings, and showers that came and went weeks ago. I was still reeling from embarrassment over the unseen invitations when I found several bills that were also MIA, therefore not paid. Thus commenced the sequence of events that would undo even the most composed super-mom, let alone Zazoo Pits.

                 “English!” I yelled into the phone for the third consecutive time.

 “I’m sorry, we couldn’t understand what you said. Please say which language you wish to continue in, English or Spanish?”

“E-N-G-L-I-S-H. English!” I slowly spelled and enunciated for emphasis.   Read more »