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The Family Jewels

I know, I know, I am super slow! Thank you for understanding that this busy mom does not often find moments of creativity to allow me to speak to you, my most favourite readers. But alas, the time has come when my ingenuity can no longer stay contained. The wordage within me must be purged.

I often preface what I am about to spill to you with a little Parental Advisory notice – I have problems containing my potty mouth… and I don’t always stick to the high road to keep my lady-ness in tact. Today, I am afraid, is no better, and in fact you may want to stop reading right here.  


If you are reading this – then you decided to throw caution to the wind, live on the edge and dance with me in a world filled with profanity and inappropriateness. Congratulations, you dirty thing.

So… what should we discuss now? Don’t worry - I know just the thing! Balls.

Yep, Balls and I am not talking sports. But you can drag your mind out of the gutter, this is a metaphoric conversation, not a literal one. Sheesh, you really are dirty.

This past couple of weeks I have been reminded and have discussed the importance of a good set of kahunas. You don’t know how vital these little instruments are until you see someone without any. And what’s worse, a person who pretends theirs are bigger than yours until a little confrontation and VOOM! No balls. Gone!

I have been described as sassy (I know you are thinking, does she mean bitchy? And yes, I do, but Sassy is a more apt description, thank you very much) and fiery, both of which I can agree to. And I consider my family jewels to be in tact and fairly operational. I have them and I am not afraid to use them. I don’t just whip them out though; they stay hidden until necessary. But when they come out, stand back. There is a world of hurt coming.

I will stand up for myself, family and friends and god help you, my son. That there, is a no holds barred session, my marbles grow by leaps and bounds, in fact I become invincible. Every mother worth her salt can attest to that. But some may not take it to the lengths I do, but whatever, that’s her business not mine. Now I am not proud to admit it, but lets just say I have made children and old men alike, quiver in fear. (OK, I am a little proud, but that’s just the old gems shining through)  

Having established that I have a functioning set, let’s talk about your nuggets. You fall into one of three categories;
1. You are just fine. The bullocks are working and on the job.
2. You pretend you have a nice twosome to work with, until it comes down to it then they retreat.
3. You don’t have any.

Lets address number 3 first: I am pretty sure we all can agree, if you don’t have any, you don’t have any. You are just a sackless mess. I don’t have any advice for you, except grow some - at least a little pair.

Ok here is the complicated one #2 – The Receding Ball Syndrome. These people drive me nuts (no pun intended, really). They talk a big game, then when it comes down to it, pffft! A big disappointment.  I would venture to say that these people are worse than the ball-less ones. At least they know where they stand, you know where they stand…in a corner, stones free. You know not to have the guy without any cracker jacks backing you. Then the guy who pretends he has a nice solid set gets your back… where does that get you? Nowhere, cause when push comes to shove, the set is firmly tucked and you are on your own once again.

And the people in the first category have nothing to worry about. Being Ballsy is nothing to shy from. If you can’t stand up for yourself, your beliefs, your family, etc. who the hell is going to?! You go on with your bad self and live life, cause you are doing just fine.

So, the ultimate moral of this story is learn to love and embrace your balls. Don’t be afraid to let them show. Be strong, be proud and let them hang. (sorry, couldn’t resist)





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