Five Three

Today is my birthday. Happy Birthday Mommacita. I've enjoyed all 53 years with you. Oh, how lovely a person you have become.

Your sister in laws put a picture of your rear end in a swim suit on a quilt and you only threw a small fit. Your daughter and her husband moved to the Caribbean and you just smiled and waved goodbye, instead of hanging on to the tail of the plane with your fingernails. And toenails. You are so healthy mommacita! Your sons lived for two years in 3rd world countries and you just put their pictures on the frig and said in your emails to them how exciting it was to hear that they'd been arrested, or had been placed in hiding because they had a mentally deranged stalker or they lived next to a polluted river. Remember how great you were through all that Mommacita? Remember how you stood in awe of yourself? No? How about this one: Your granddaughters live two states away, however you are able to use your grandmotherly wiles and convince them to sing to you over the phone whenever you want.

Mommacita, as the kids are saying now a days, You rock. Put on your yammies, crawl under your down comforter, and smile at the ceiling. Go ahead and eat a chocolate covered fortune cookie from a pink box and purr. Tomorrow you can put on your spanx and face the world.