I'm a day late for a birthday I cannot forget, the one I share with my momma. (She can blame her husband, who infected half of the Metroplex with whatever he caught from that cheap Chinese buffet he ate at last week near my house and transmitted to my whole family for the lateness of the post.)
I was her 35th birthday present and, yes, it's far too late for mom to be vain about her age. All things considered, she's doing da*n well for being, chronologically, as good as diamonds.
She can still travel with PaMonk to the far-flung corners of the Earth; she can play with her grandchildREN that her son and daughter-in-law have made; she can live happily on NY's generous union pension in an apartment that will hopefully go condo soon; she's 11.5 years (knock knock) cancer-free; and she can do most of the things she likes to do. That's dang good at 75.
Happy Birthday MaMonk, I love you and hope you got over whatever the Old Man infected us with.