Hi Guys,
Here's a little thing on a lighter note for ya. My dad just had a B-Day on Tuesday. January 26th. My old man turned 48 this year. His date of birth? January 26th, 1968. His full name is Christopher John Morris (he goes by the nickname of "Chris" around his friends). One year before woodstock, when Nurses still wore caps on their heads and rock music (Beatles, baby, Beatles!) gripped the nation's youth of that time (Old enough to be grandparents now, eh?). He has two older sisters, each with now-college aged kids. Patrice (the eldest, born in 1958-her birthday is in either April or May), and Jean (born in 1965-wink, in September.) My mom was also born on that same year. April 15th, to be exact. My grandmother was just 23 years old when she had her.
My parents were children of the 70's in New Jersey-you know, disco, classic rock, Watergate, blah blah blah. (I'll tell you more when I get to it). It was pretty much an awesome time to be a kid then, let me tell ya. My parents both grew up in Catholic families- Mom's was large (she was the eldest out of a total of 6 sisters and 1 brother- Holy cow.). They were both teens in the 80's (the age of embarrassingly big hair and of John Hughes' Movies), since they both graduated high school in 1986. (They both went to single-sex Catholic Schools. Mom's was Holy Angels (which all of her 6 sisters went to). Dad's was Bergen Catholic). Dad was captivated by the New-Wave sub-genre-still is now. Dad, like many other people, also loved MTV (back when it actually showed Music Videos). Mom and Dad had a brief encounter at the high school prom-but they didn't fall in love until much later. In the late 80's, my parents met by chance or by sheer coincidence-they were both at a party held by one of Mom's friends, Lynne. Dad brought two of his childhood/adolescence friends along, Keith and Rob. Story is, Dad really wanted to impress some girls at the party, so he pretended that he was a master of the piano (which he wasn't). So, as he continued to play piano (or at least try to) one pretty girl caught his eye. Her name? Maura Monaghan. So, they started talking to each other-which was the part of a long story.
In October of 1991 (In the age of Grunge, Nirvana, and Plaid shirts), my parents got married after dating for quite a while. There are many funny stories about the wedding that my parents could tell you, including a confused Cousin Beth or whoever her name was showing up dressed in cutoff jeans and a T-Shirt and how two of the best men ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.
My Parents moved quite a lot in the 90's. You can ask my mom about it, she'll tell ya. Then, in 1998, a miraculous thing had happened. Mom found out she was pregnant with her first kid. At that same time, my Parents already had a lot of nieces on my Dad's side (Those college-age kids that I was telling you about? 3 of them were little kids back then). At that time, my Mom's side of the family was experiencing some sadness-let's just say it involves a sick great-uncle and leave it at that. So, my Mom's side really needed some good news to cheer them up. After that, they moved in November of 1998 to the first house I lived in as a kid. And the kid was originally supposed to be Born in April, but some mild complications had occurred and my Mom needed to give birth to the kid via through I think a C-section. And, lo and behold, the kid finally entered the world on March 10th, 1999. Who was that kid, you may ask? Well, none other than your author. (My full name is Flannery Hope Monaghan-Morris. I'll tell you more about how me and my siblings got named in the first place). Two years and 9 months later, on December 19th, 2001 (Just 3 months after 9/11...Ouch.), their 2nd child, another girl, was born. Her name was Quinlan Claire. (As for the story of how my Brother came along, I'll tell you in a later post). We got a dog named Seamus, a Soft-Coated Wheaten, when I was either 5 or 6 years old. He's still alive and kicking, by the way.
Now, as Mom can't really have dairy anymore, I'd really like to bake Dad a Birthday Cake on his Family B-Day Party. Everyone who knows me says I'm an excellent cook and baker. I have a huge sweet tooth as well, and I pick recipes that everyone enjoys.
Mom got some mini-Cupcakes from that famous NYC chain bakery, Crumbs for Dad's B-Day on Tuesday. He also opened some gifts. I remember going to that place a couple times as a kid. I loved the huge cupcakes there. Mmmm...Delicious.
And, here's to say, Happy 48th birthday to my Old man. Here's to hoping that you will live longer than David Bowie and Alan Rickman. Love ya! Bye!
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