Loading ...
Only I could somehow tie together a visit by the spirit of my Mom with farts that smell like brownies. It’s what I do, and here’s how I do it.
It was an evening like any other evening in our house. Milo was protecting us by barking at any little stirring outside, while my wife and I were preparing for a fun-filled evening on the couch. Suddenly the smell of brownies filled the air near our living room, drifted around the kitchen, down the hall, and I even smelled them a bit in my office. It seemed weird because we weren’t making brownies, we didn’t have any brownies, and the closest thing we had to the wonderful chocolatey goodness was this stuff called brownie brittle in the pantry. The problem? When my wife opened the pantry door there was no smell of brownies in the pantry.
Bummer, I was hoping for a surprise of homemade brownies.
I can’t believe I screwed this up.
There was a story in 
A little while ago a friend of mine’s mother passed away, and much like many things in the lives of people we know these days, I found out about it on Facebook. I felt for him as you could feel his grief in his postings, but you could also see the love around him to help him through.
I’m not a bad American. I love this country. I’m just a bad rememberer. The thing is that on the 4th of July the reminders were everywhere so how I forget remains a mystery. One of my friends posted on Facebook how she went for a five mile run and was sad because there were so few flags being flown, other people were sharing pictures of flags, taking pictures of flags, changing their profile pictures to flags, and the night before my wife said, “You didn’t put out the flag.” I replied, “That’s because it’s not the 4th of July, yet. I’ll put it out tomorrow.” I said this with all of the conviction in the world, confident in my ability to remember the next day to fly our flag.