Oh what a beautiful day! Well, actually not. It is cloudy and dreary but thankfully here in Alberta that means it’s going to be a nice balmy +4 degrees Celsius! The clearer the sky, the colder it is. So as much as I like a sunny day, I’ll take a cloudy warm day over a sunny snot freezing day any day!
This morning I came downstairs and began my waking up routine by hopping on my husband’s computer to check my e-mail and such. Nothing (other than a good Starbucks) jump starts your morning like reading a few good blogs.
Then I decided it was about time to call the kids down for breakfast since I heard them milling about in their rooms.
In a moment they came pouring out of their rooms like so many baby spiders from a punctured arachnid nest. (Have you ever seen that happen in any other format than on Charlotte’s Web? Very scary if you personally punctured it quite by accident.) From their little mouths echoed the sweet sounds of “Happy Birthday Moms” that I must say I’ve never heard before so early in the morning. This is a milestone indeed, when my children are old enough to remember my birthday! However, two of them have not yet mastered the art of counting in the higher digits… and the one who can count could not correct the verbal typo because he was, as he is frequently, paralyzed by comedy to where he was unable to speak for crying with laughter.
“Happy birthday Mom! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!!” came the cherubic chorus of kindness. Then some unexpected words…”Mom’s EIGHTY today! Yay! Today Mom turns eighty!!”
Ummmm… 80? Did they catch a glimpse of the muscle rub on my night stand? Did they mistake my night time mouth guard for a set of dentures? Do I complain that much about my bursitis? (I don’t really have bursitis but as far as complaints of the elderly go, I like the sound of that one the best.) Do I pinch their cheeks until they have permanent dents in their faces? Do I give them spit washes regularly when we go places?
Luckily, I can blame it on them just confusing the two numbers that happen to be separated by a trifling 50 years. Now when I turn 80 and they get mixed up I might be just a tad more forgiving!