When you’re happy

When you’re happy and you know it clap your hands

When you’re happy and you know it crap your pants

When your happy and you know it

and you really want to show it

When you’re happy and you know wet your pants

This might not be the version of the song that kids learn in school these days, but Freud would agree with me, that wetting oneself might be a very good expression of excitement.  Like that Bella wannabee in the crappy 50 shades book, claiming to have an orgasm on every third page.  Primal instinct is sometimes the best form of expression.  By the way, I have it on good faith that she faked half of those orgasms and that Christian Grey was actually three men.

Anyhow, if wetting oneself was acceptable behaviour at providing proof of happiness, like clapping, then I would be ready to release a ginormous volume of yellow liquid, enough to dethrone the Victoria falls as one of the seven wonders of the world.

For I have reached my 200 follower today, and I would like to  give a shout out to AnnaLinnehan for being that dudette, that 200th ticker.  This is such an amazing moment, but I am running out of original ideas on how to celebrate these awkward little achievements on this blog of mine.  I love celebrating mediocrity…  So, Thanks. To. Each. And. Every. Person. Who bothered following Ah dad…

Gratitude seems like such a worthless word in moments like these, and “Thank you”  so inadequate to describe the thoughts rolling around inside my head.  I do promise to continue to write and thereby make your effort worthwhile.

So here’s to my next 200.

(Would it be divine intervention, simple coincidence or just great planning that this is also my 200th post on my blog.)

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