Today was Mrs. Butterworth's birthday.
Yes, Mrs. Butterworth is a real person.
And yes, Mrs. Butterworth is her real name.
And no, she doesn't have a pirate name, because her name is Mrs. Butterworth for crying out loud, and she needs no other name with a fabulous name like Mrs. Butterworth!
And if you don't know Mrs. Butterworth, well, friends, YOU are missing out.
Mrs. Butterworth just happens to be the greatest preschool principal in the entire preschool universe.
I might go one step further and say that she is the greatest principal PERIOD, but, since she already has a big head from all this crap, I'll stop.
Today was Mrs. Butterworth's 39th birthday.
It's okay to say that because she said I could, and because she is EXACTLY eight days older than me. (you better be marking your calendars!)
So how do we get to bears and cheeetahs and thongs?
So, me and Captain Jake Sparrow headed to the Dollar Store this morning before school, to get a plethora of gag gifts for our principal (and dear friend) who has an amazing sense of humor (how can she not with Fallon Pirates in her life) and to hopefully brighten her birthday with gifts that no one else would think to get her.
So Sparrow asks me what are we going to get Mrs. Butterworth.
And I had the following in my mind (keeping in mind that since we're the same age, I know what's coming to me, so I figure I get like this one chance to throw the first pitch, knowhadimeanverne?)
Granny panties, old lady curlers, Geritol, etc.
But Jake didn't quite understand all that.
So I shifted in third gear.
And we had our twenty dollar budget, and just started going up and down the shelves.
Jake picks Silly String.
I picked a RIP Halloween headstone.
Jake picks a Spiderman plastic wine glass.
I picked old lady curlers.
Jake picks orange flip flops.
I picked Beano.
Jake picks Milk Duds.
I picked High School Musical pom poms.
Jake picks a feather boa.
Jake and I together pick a fake moustache eyeglass face.
I picked Swedish Fish.
Jake picked a Bear shaped air freshener.
And then we enter the unmentionable aisle.
I was searching for the grannie panties.
Jake spots them first.
Not grannie panties.
And the Captain says, "How about these, Mom? Do you think she'd like these?"
And since I had pretty much given him carte blanche, and since I knew (don't ask how) that Mrs. Butterworth is a fan of that particular type of unmentionable, I said, "What do you think, Jake?"
And the Captain says, "Yep. Let's get her these Cheetah ones."
And in the bag they went.
And can I just interject here once again, that when I started this blog I fully intended it to be rated G for ever and ever and ever, and how can I help it that my son has fabulous taste in women's underwear? Seriously? How can I not be proud of him, and support his interest in quality gift-giving?
So off we trudge to school.
HUGE birthday bag with balloon attached, stuffed to the gills with tissue wrapped "crap" presents.
And what did Mrs. Butterworth think of her gifts?
What do you think?
Please note, she opted not to display to the cheetah thong.
She is a preschool principal after all.
Even if she is the best preschool principal in the whole universe.
Happy Birthday, Mrs. Butterworth!
We love you!
One more thing -- when I tucked the Captain into bed this evening, he asked me if he I could ask Mrs. Butterworth tomorrow:
"Mrs. Butterworth, the next time you come to our Daytona 100 (um, 500) party, can you please bring your really cool mustache face?"
He didn't mention any thong requests.