Uh, hello?

         To my mother’s defense she really can’t be to blame, when last night her response of “Tiffany… who?”  Was admitted to my stepfather when she asked him who he was on the phone with. This may seem like an odd reaction from a mother, when hearing the arrival of her own child’s name, upon investigation of a phone conversation her spouse is having in another room.

From my perspective I ask this same very question daily “Tiffany … who?”  I personally believe within the core of human beings lays an “underwriter” collaborating in sorts to create a readied individual to face each day and to better tell our stories at each days end.  I for one have multiple “under-writers” co-existing within.

A select few may refer to my “underwriter” theory as a set of symptoms (multiple, personality, disorder, maybe?) For now that’s irrelevant because they’re not the ones composing this psychoanalysis, “Dorothy” is. (that's one of my underwriters)

I don’t think my mother ever really got to know “Dorothy” and honestly struggles to know the creature she actually had the power of naming; Tiffany. Then again I don’t phone home to Alabama as much as I should, and my mother may be one of those select few viewing our inner collaborations as a set of symptoms. So in her viewpoint, there was ‘no tellin’ who my step-dad was talking to on the phone last night.