....Not me, you freaks. Great Grandma Stella! She's 84 and, according to her email, "It's a boy". She won first place at her mobile home Halloween contest and hasn't stopped partying since. If someone makes a pumpkin martini, I'll put you two in touch.
People, I might bitch about manners in front of post offices.
I may have the occasional run-in with the mean mom at the play area.
I might worry about the labrador retriever spirit inside of me bounding into the wrong person's personal space and sniffing their unsuspecting butt.
But I hope that with my new awareness of social etiquette I never lose the Stella spirit.
Here's to everyone's knocked up ballerina. Let's twirl! Or at least stop tip toeing and start dancing on our toes. (Or in Stella's case, after one of her 4PM concoctions, let's start tipsy toeing.)
If someone doesn't approve of our exhuberance dancing, especially an uptight male, there's always a Nutcracker.
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