I know that I am posting ahead of schedule, but events are in motion that simply cannot wait until Monday.
Camille, the Hot Comma Momma, the joy of my heart, the mother of my offspring, is gone.
Perhaps all three, you can never tell with her.
Her departure, besides leaving me with the Three Children of the Apocalypse, has created a real challenge in trying to celebrate our eighteenth wedding anniversary.
Back in the day
Now, I will be the first to admit that not all of the first seventeen were always wonderful. We had various obstacles and impediments to overcome in commemorating our wedded bliss, but as I recall, up until this point we have both managed to at least be present for the festivities.2
So today it is my privilege to present a very public and quite international celebration of anniversary love to my absent darling. All comments and well-wishes will be addressed to Camille, Mistress of All Things Comma, in a brave attempt to overcome this transnational hurdle that has come between us.
In the Glorious Present
Everyone is invited, no gifts are necessary. No need to RSVP.
Comment boxes are standing by.
Happy Anniversary, Beautiful.
Happy Sunday everyone.