the good, the bad, and the ugly

I title this post the good, the bad, and the ugly because that has been a joke among my two sisters and me for about forty years, since our dad introduced us to some of his buddies that way. As in, "Meet my daughters... the good, the bad, and the ugly." What did he know? We only saw him about once every other full moon or so, if that, because he took no part in raising us. But still... 

Naturally, each of us was convinced that she, alone, was the one Dad referred to as "the good". We've each been campaigning for the recognition of such over all these long years. It's a joke. But it isn't. Don't we, each and every one of us, long to be accepted as we are? Don't we long to be the chosen favorite? 

Here and now, I lay down my sword. I don't care who he was referring to. Actually, I was probably "the ugly" because, as a child, I most resembled a frog. No joke. I have pictures to prove it. Anyhow, what I'm trying to say is we are still the good, the bad, and the ugly: deal with it, people. We are the unit of GBU. (Though GUB sounds better.) And, here's an update: my sister, Karen is at home now recovering from her stroke. Her prognosis is good. Let us thank the Lord for favors large and small.