Busted Chops for Christmas
One day, I shall learn to kill Ravenna. But hey, can’t really blame her. I was the idiot who asked her to take a pic of me for my mom who was complaining that she had no recent photos. Since I knew Mom would flash it to every member, and more importantly, the daughter of every member of her woman’s club, I wanted a good photo. So I asked my demon protector (yeah, I choke and laugh when I say it, too) to take one. Rav did. Then she handed me the phone and said, “Look, I captured you in all your glory.”
This was the photo she handed me.
The dog was just a really nice touch. Have I said today how much I hate Ravenna’s powers? Yes, she protects my body, but really what about my ego? It’s far more fragile. Not that she cares.
And for the record and my busted ego, this was actually the photo she took.
To which, I stupidly sent to my mother, who promptly asked why my shirt didn’t have any sleeves. Had I been mugged? What kind of mugger only steals the sleeves from men’s shirts? Then she launched into a three day rant about how I was going to die, speeding around on those godforsaken (if only she knew the truth about that) motorbikes butt-naked. Yeah, I can’t win for losing. I finally gave up and sent her over this one.
Haven’t heard a word since. Not sure if that’s good or bad. But, my ears are grateful. It’s a most Merry Christmas gift for me.