Such A Miracle

There are miracles. And then there are MIRACLES. Everyone sees a miracle differently, I suppose. My miracle isn't of the biblical variety. My miracle won't make it into the Guiness Book of World Records. My miracle won't get a mention on the nightly news. My miracle won't change a single thing on the planet.

In terms of miracles, no one has said this to me:
"Despite the fact that you have no uterus, no female plumbing at all, and you're old and getting older by the second, you're pregnant with triplets. Mazel tov!"
"Despite the fact that you've done bupkis on a global, not to mention local scale, we're giving you the Nobel Peace Prize just because. Mazel tov!"
"Despite the fact that you can't do a double pirouette to save your tush, and your extension is an embarrassment, welcome to the Royal Dance Theatre of Sherman Oaks. Mazel tov!"

In terms of miracles, a nice recorded voice said this to me last night at exactly 7:02 p.m.:
"You've completed jury duty without ever leaving your house. The chances of this happening again are zilch, so don't get too cocky. We'll get you next time. Mazel tov!"