At Thanksgiving, I was writing on Mom's infamous bank calendar, filling in all the important events happening in December - the Christmas programs, Christmas in Atlantic, Joni's birthday . . .and the 9th was about the only open day. So I wrote it was my birthday. Grace saw this and called me out. I told her it was my half birthday. And instead of doing the math and figuring out that it wasn't, she decided to go with it and threw me a party complete with singing Happy Birthday, presents and hand-written cards. But my favorite part is that they made me breakfast - all my favorite things . . . Oreo cakes for eyes, a kolache for a nose and a cherry candy cane for a mouth. And don't forget the pepsi for the hair. I have to say, I love that they know what I love :) It was the best birthday ever! (Then Grace took a picture of Shane and I on our "after church" drive. Another one of my favorite things!)
2 comments:
December 9 is 100 days after your birthday. That's a legitimate reason to pary. And yes, you are ridiculous.
Aunt Jessie
That's what I like about you. You make good sense.
And I like that you comment.
I know there is a following. I know people are reading this right now.
Comment, people.
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