A couple years earlier, while on a shooting extravaganza in the middle of the desert, I saved my flamingo from death by firing squad. Sheri, my Stepmom, had sent the flamingo along with other collected targets for everyone. Well as soon as I saw the adorable pink thing, I knew I had to save it. It wasn't an easy feat. I looked in all directions, and then tucked my new flamingo under my arm, very inconspicuously I might add, and headed for dads truck. How I and the flamingo made it undetected is still a miracle. From there, I got the stowaway to my suitcase safe and sound. Once safe in Salt Lake City, my prized flamingo became a mascot for my apartment. It sat atop my kitchen wall shelf, ever so cheerfully, watching over me and all who entered. Those were happy days. A few people even started referring to my place as "the Flamingo!"
But then one tragic day, a horrible, despicable, terrible, and not to mention creepy individual aka Jimmy broke into my apartment and stole Mingo the Flamingo. That was flamingos name...Mingo. Clever right?!
If his intention was to hurt me....BULLSEYE!
He then shipped Mingo to Portland where a very scary, hairy, troll aka Ben was waiting. The torture exacted on Mingo causes me nightmares to this day. I was sent a ridiculous list of demands, the worst being that I wear a Sarah Palin Shirt and take pictures.
Its been a year and half since my precious Mingo was taken and not a day goes by that I don't think of how Mingo is doing. I have begged, pleaded, and even plotted rescue missions, but to no avail. Mingo is gone. Its something I have to come to terms with.
Its time. So for Christmas, the children of that horrible, dispicable, terrible, and not to mention creepy individual aka Jimmy brought me a new Flamingo. Something about the sins of the father came to mind while receiving my gift but those thoughts quickly shifted to excitement and joy. A new Flamingo to match my pink dish towels and dish soap.
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