IT WAS MOMMY'S BIRTHDAY & THEY LABELLED THE POODLE
It was mommy's birthday, and I was put to work.
They sat us on the bench. They made cardboard signs. They said "MISA. MISA. Look at the camera." And I did not look at the camera, and I want to explain why, and the reason is at the top right of that sign.
They wrote "POODLE" and drew an arrow.
An arrow. Pointing at the poodle. As though somebody receiving this photograph might otherwise look at a small apricot curly animal and think "and who is that, a second Misa?"
I was not labelled. Let me be very clear about that. Nobody drew an arrow at me, because everybody already knows who I am. I am the one in every other photograph on this entire website. I don't need an arrow. An arrow, for me, would be redundant.
But I want it noted that the poodle got her own line of text on a sign celebrating somebody else's birthday, which is exactly the kind of thing that happens around here, constantly, and which I have simply learned to absorb.
✎ Happy birthday mommy. I mean that sincerely. I also received no cake, and I want both of those things in the same sentence so you understand the shape of my life.