It was my mom's birthday in April and my little brother's just two days after that. While driving to my brother John's birthday party, I started to do a very scary thing with my head. I started to do math. There was no way that John was the age he said he was. No way possible. Unless it meant that I wasn't the age that I thought I was. So I did the math -- while driving-- and no, I did not get into a car accident, being distracted with all that thinking. I realized that I was not 38 years old (which is what I have been telling everybody, including that nice lady at the Passport office who didn't correct me or who wasn't good at math either.) I am 37!
It was like the gift of an entire year descended upon me!
For my mother's birthday present I made her a Happy Birthday Dirge Banner. She loves to sing this sad funereal birthday song. She even sang it while she had cancer. My mom. Is cool. At some point I will let her know that it is sung to the Russian Commie tune, 'Song of the Volga Boatman.'
Here it is all together. Sorry about my thumb getting in the way.
And sure, it was supposed to be a gift for her April birthday, but I got it made by Mother's Day. Close enough.