1980s, aging, comedy, family, holiday, Humor, vacation, women

Blubberer

I never considered myself to be a blubberer.  It usually takes a lot for me to blubber. But last week, somebody should have posted a special blubber bulletin.

My family gathered for a weeklong vacation for the first time in a few years. I planned a family dinner for the first night at the vacation house and wrote a toast to commemorate the moment. I stood up, looked at all the faces staring back at me, said a few words, and then I blubbered. No, I didn’t show my blubber because that would have made everyone else blubber, I just blubbered. That’s a funny word, isn’t it?  Blubbered.  It makes your cheeks puff out when you say it.  Blubbered. Anyway, somebody should have sent out a blubber bulletin before dinner so that everyone knew conditions were favorable for blubbering, but instead, nobody saw it coming.  It was a surprise blubber.

Blubbering conditions didn’t improve on the second day when we toasted a first wedding anniversary, or on the third day when we chair danced, some in wheelchairs and others in lawn chairs, to a few hours’ worth of 80s music on the back porch. I have to admit that some of those were laughter blubbers, if such a thing really exists.

The fifth day might have been my only blubber-free day, but I think some vacationers were blubbering from too much celebrating the day before. After all, it was a holiday. Day 6 included a blubbering baby shower with gifts that made it on time since Reba the Mail Lady was also on vacation.  Day 7 was the ‘Preparation for Departure Day’ blubber.  And Day 8, well you don’t even want to know.  That required a blubber warning instead of a watch, a few pairs of galoshes, and a yellow life raft with oars.

It’s been a few days since everyone left and I still blubber every time I think about our vacation.  In fact, I’m blubbering right now.  I guess I now have to consider myself a blubberer, so send out the bulletin.

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