November is an especially dangerous month in the Roushanzamir family. Whilst, never does my Mama prefer even numbers to odd, nor major keys to minor, the dawn of November exaggerates her preferences. Of course November is her Favorite Month. See the picture to your right for Mama's November Look.
I trace the special relevance of November to the undoubted fact that Mama's birthday is November 21st. [That's 3 x 7 -- both odd numbers, both historically lucky numbers across cultures, she tells me]
Mama disdains Halloween [as do I] disapproving by its colonization [see, entry October 31, 2006] but she loves her birthday. And the keys to satisfying her birthday pleasures are as follows. No surprises desired. She expects to be feted, borne magnificent gifts by many admirers, to be served champaigne and caviar. Later in the evening, perhaps thin cucumber and gently smoked salmon sandwiches with appropriate garnishes. And later still, perhaps Benedictine or creme de methne depending, she informs me, on the weather.
Believe me this is no joke. So in the Roushanzamir household Papa and I tred gently in November, doing our very best to gratify Mama's whims, not only on November 21st, but on every day leading up to that Day of Days and every November day thereafter.
[Note: Papa and I love the Thanksgiving Day holiday, viewed as a respite since whenever that august holiday falls, Mama, who also approves of that holiday, does the cooking.]
No comments:
Post a Comment