And that smell… pee-eww!  I half expected to find a severed human foot.  It was like damp, moldy, lint mixed with human sweat and dill pickles.  I struggled to find my way to the bottom of the hamper wondering if this is what I smell like after a long day.

Near the bottom of the hamper I found an unopened letter.  Strange because I usually have my mail delivered to the mail box on the alleyway behind my house.  How did this get here? 

So two obvious questions:  1. Why is my mail in the bottom of my hamper, and 2. How long was it sitting there?

Dear God!  The letter is postmarked December 17^th.  Okay that explains the smell.  I mean if I haven’t been to the bottom of my hamper since December and it’s now April, well…

Now I would like to remind everyone that I was in Europe from February 1 until, um, March 9 or 10… I can’t remember.  So I’m off the hook for 5 of those weeks.  The other nine weeks?  Well, I have no excuse.

Anyway, the envelope.  It’s one of those fancy envelopes men dread… an invitation to some sort of elegant gathering like a wedding.  After spraying it with Lysol, I opened it.  It was an invite to a friend’s bridal shower.  Actually two friends.  I know and like them both very much.  I’m no etiquette expert (witness the fact that my mail is in my hamper) but I’m pretty sure it’s too late to regret for a party on January 14.

If you have ever thought to yourself while watching my show, “Gee that Mike Redding seems like a nice guy.  I wonder what kind of friend he would make?”… well this is your answer.  I’m absentminded, forgetful, mildly retarded and far too busy laundering my mail to actually read it.

I probably need to call my dry cleaner to see if she has a couple bills I’m missing.

It’s a good thing it’s too late to RSVP.  This little “reply” envelope smells like old pickles.  Anywho, to Chris and Kara, a thousand apologies.  I love you guys and will definitely be at the wedding in two weeks.  Somehow that invitation never made it to the hamper.

I never figured out the answer to question number one:  how did it get there?  Did I go to the mail box, put the letters in my back pocket and continue on with my chores?   No earthly idea.

Some mysteries are so complex, a man like me can only shake my head; shrug my shoulders and move on to the next Rubik’s cube of daily life: in this case, why won’t my trash collectors haul my yard waste?  It’s trash isn’t it?  It’s also the most biodegradable thing I have to throw away?  Is that the very thing you’d want the most of in a land fill?  I mean it’s dirt and rocks for goodness sakes!

I just don’t get some things.

Okay before I move on to the rest of my day I want to wish a very loving happy birthday to two important people.  Margaret Sparkman turns 90 this week.  You would know her as “The Gourd Lady.”  Her other nickname is “Sparky.”  Which is how she is listed on my cell phone speed dial.  Her lovely little town of Conover, NC, declared her birthday Margaret “Sparky” Sparkman Day!  I wasn’t able to attend the party.  I had a high fever Sunday and some sort of intestinal virus from hell.  

But Andy and his wife, Kristie, were there bearing our gifts.  Andy being the ladies man that he is, laid a wet one on Sparky’s cheek.  Thank the dear lord she turned her head, or we’d have a scandal on our hands.

Kidding, of course.

The other birthday is to my most favorite gal on earth… my mom.  Giovanna Maria Gionco-Mattiuzzo is one heck of a lady.   She’s the best example I have ever seen of God’s love in my life.  If everyone had a mom like mine, there would be no war, no hate… and no one would go to bed hungry or cold.   Maybe I’m crazy, but I believe that. 

Happy birthday, mom!   From your favorite son (yes, a swipe at my brothers), baby Michael.

Okay, I’m off… way off,

Mike Redding