Happy Birthday to Me!

Happy Birthday to me!
A shout out to MommaKiss!  Thank you for taking care of me.  I love you, dear friend.
**the word “old” (ow, how that hurts!) will not be allowed to used in reference to the author of this blog. The guilty parties will be flogged.**  Aging is for suckas, and wine apparently.
Acceptable gifts include but are not limited to: cash, offers of surrogacy, taking my birthday paddles for me, sexual favors, live houseplants, cash, chocolate, booze, guest posts, cash, use of your home (if said home is near a beach, has a hot pool boy and/or a stocked liquor cabinet), well prepared meals (dishes will be expected to washed after said meal is served) cash, chocolate and sexual favors.
Any questions?

And now a guest post from your mom.  Okay, my mom.  Get the tissues….

My Dearest,
Your birthday card will be late. Didn’t really say what we would have liked it to say. Still trying to get back to a regular life. Dad is working late and sometimes Saturdays.

We would, of course, say that we love you. I remember when you were in the doctor’s office for an infant wellness visit. I told the nurse that I thought that we would never get a girl. In those days there was no way to know what you were carrying . You were a wonderful surprise.

You know the stories about the boys fetching you from your crib and taking you to their playroom. They would call me only if you cried to be fed or were in need of a change.

I would soak dirty diapers in the toilet. It was yours that was “lost”  when I asked your brother B what happened to the diaper when I saw there wasn’t one in the toilet.  He responded “it went round and round”. Had to call Uncle S who opened the waste line and began tossing not only a diaper but small toys as well.

Have a beautiful and happy celebration of your birthday. We love you to the moon and back. Mom and Dad

PS I wanted to name you Honey Rose after my beloved maternal grandmother whose children always called her Honey. And because of the watercolored photo of her at about 18 months old holding a rose. Everytime we visited I remembered seeing the picture on the wall. Later I thought better of it as it sounded a little like a stripper.

That Mom, I tell ya.  Maybe she should have named me Honey after all!  I love you Mom.  Next to giving my sister (another story for another time) this was the best present you’ve ever given me.

Now somebody hand me a tissue.

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