"I think he's mellow...Like me"

Confidential to Laura - I told you I was going to make you the subject of a blog.  Here it is...You're fabulous.  But, you aren't mellow. 


So...Last night was Book Club.  Or should I say, "Book Club."  The quotes are important -  What with the fact that very few of us actually READ the book and all (Except for Aileen the show off).   It's a term we use lightly.  We like wine and snacks.  But we like each other and enjoy the sorta, kinda regular once a month meetings nonetheless (which is a cool ass word, I might add.  I mean really - Three words squashed into one...AWESOME).

My dear friend Laura is many wonderful things.  She is kind and generous and funny and thoughtful and loyal beyond belief and full out fantastic.  She is not mellow.  In fact, she may be the antithesis (another cool ass word) of mellow.   Laura doesn't leave too much to the imagination when it comes to what she's feeling.  She isn't exactly known for being passive or quiet or really anything to the left side of alive.  It's what is best about her.  

It's also what is funny as hell about her. 

When Fuss was "a-brewin'" in my utero, Laura would greet us with her oxygen depriving hug (few things make you feel more loved than a hug from Laura).  She'd then get as close to the baby bump as possible and shatter the sound barrier with a 'HELLO  BABY!!!  IT'S LAURA!!!! HOW ARE YOU BABY???!!!!"   She'd stand back and make her intentions clear...She did this so that when baby exited said uterus and was out and about in the world, he/she wouldn't startle when she was around.   Incidently, it works - I've seen Little Laura number one sleep IN HER ARMS through some fairly intense noise.

Laura is a kick ass mom - She has two of the cutest, sweetest little people of her own now.  Which leads to the mellow thing...

So, she's holding Little Mr. Laura (carbon copy of Mr. Laura) at Book Club and we're all ooing and ahhhing about what a good baby he is.  Sidenote:  Good baby?  Like what does a bad baby do? Steal the car keys?  Sneak some booze in his bottle? Anyhow, Laura says (and I'm not making this up), "Yeah...I think he's more mellow, like me."  

Hush silence.

Glances at each other to gauge reactions. 

Followed by uproarious laughter.  

And then a night of teasing...

Mellow.  Little Mr. Laura is a mellow baby.   His mother is not a mellow woman.

I have danced on tables at Mexican Fiesta enough with this woman to know she isn't mellow.

I have smiled at people as our volume and energy drew attention to our table enough to know she isn't mellow.

I have eaten lunch and dinner and drank margaritas enough at LaFuente (sometimes both on same day) with this woman - I know she isn't mellow.

I have laughed until I wet myself with this woman.  She is not mellow.

I have seen her engage perfect strangers in political arguements. Mellow? Nope.

I have seen her take charge of a room or a situation and been ever so thankful that she is not mellow.

I have watched her make this lovely little life for herself.  A lovely little life she has fought for and worked for and MADE happen.  A mellow woman couldn't have done that.

I have known her and loved her and admired her long enough to know.  She.  Is not.  Mellow.

And if she ever changes her way and becomes mellow...Well, I would be heartbroken.