Cancer Card

On Friday I was duly permitted to become a card carrying member of the Cancer Card Club by a lovely Deputy Attorney General. I, in fact, had utilized this power earlier in the morning when I arrived at Chancery. I had to carry a large box of binders and decidedly illegally parked in front of the Court. I opened the door and announced to the sheriff, "Can I leave this here, I have cancer." He said, "Yes." However, my plans were foiled when my sister-in-law popped her head out (we're on the same case) and I burst out crying. Damn it!

So, I had the opportunity to utilize this new superpower twice yesterday.

Scene: Toms River 7th Annual Ice Cream Festival. Mom is having problems ripping her ticket off for her next sample...

Mom: I can't get the ticket off.
Me: Are you retarded?
Mom: Angela Marie, it's not perforated. You're mean.
Me: Leave me alone, I have cancer.

See, the effectiveness of this exchange is that I was able to thwart years of mother/daughter angst and drama from exploding on Washington Street.

Scene: Saturday night dinner. I purchased a lovely sugar free birthday cake (for no reason) from Stop and Shop.

Hubby: I am going to have some cake.
Me: Don't eat the flower.
Hubby: Why?
Me: I want it.
Hubby: That's not right, you don't want any cake.
Me: I want it later.
Hubby pouts.
Me: I have cancer.

Here the Cancer Card allowed me to preserve my future cake rights for gluttonous sugar free indulgence.

Go Deputy Attorney General!