Bossy Britches

Since my last post my Dad called me to tell me that I cannot use my boss's real name on my blog because, "I could get fired". Well, being that I like my boss and I haven't said anything bad about her or the place of my employment, I should be ok, Mr. Pelican Brief, but thanks for asking. But, because I am my own woman and I make my own decisions as a 30-year-old, as soon as my Daddy got on me for using real names, I got on my blog edited my boss's real name out, and so was born the name "Bossy Britches". Really she's not a bossy britches, but I think that name is funny, so here's to you Bossy Britches.

As far as Mr. Pelican Brief (new name for Dad now) let me tell you a little about some of the conspiracy theory kinda stuff I had to deal with as a kid. You know how your parents fill out registration papers and such at the beginning of every school year. Well, Mr. Pelican Brief did the same, yet he always left the section, "Social Security Number_______________" blank. So, I would turn in my paperwork and the teachers would say, "Um, hello little girl, you need to bring your social security number into school tomorrow." Being the compliant child that I was, I would agree and go home and ask my Dad for my social security number. He would say, "No, they don't need it." I would go back to school and try to tell my teacher that. None of the teachers argued the point until I was in 7th grade. That homeroom teacher was a SSN nazi. She refused to accept the fact that the middle school paperworkers did not have my identifying number. So, for about three days I bounced back and forth from my Dad and my teacher in the middle of an argument that I didn't understand. Finally, my Dad told me to have the teacher call him about the SSN. She called him...Guess who's SSN was protected for at least one more year? So it goes, you can see how my weird ideas have been planted and cultivated. You're the best, Mr. Pelican Brief.