It was my non-ecstatic mid-thirties birthday. Yes, I have my health, my beautiful children and many wonderful people in my life. But, I had a crick in my neck that was agonizing. I went out to lunch, and saw the MoMA Cindy Sherman exhibit with my beautiful whiny children and agonizing cricked-out neck; I'll have you all know that neither were cutting me any slack: Not even on my birthday, a "non-ecstatic" event. To top things off, for the 100th time, I heard: "Mama, come look!" In a whiny albeit sing-song, nonetheless whiny, voice.
And then I saw this on my pillow:
"Sorry this is all I had. Happy Birthday".
As is she needed anything else.
The best Birthday gift, ever.
And then I saw this on my pillow:
"Sorry this is all I had. Happy Birthday".
As is she needed anything else.
The best Birthday gift, ever.
