I woudn’t describe myself as an early riser but somehow I’ve gotten into this early morning schedule where I wake up at 5:00. This morning, since I was already up, I decided to leave my comfortable chair by the fireplace where I like to read and venture out into the cold weather to go to the 7:00 am Mass. [Note: It was 33 degrees this morning — that’s just too cold for Florida and for this Florida girl.]
Now no matter how tired I am or how early it is, I never regret going to Mass (except maybe the time it was pouring down rain and the girls and I were soaking wet by the time we made it to the church doors. Not sure what I was thinking on that day). So, despite the really cold weather–I wore my coat and scarf the whole time– Mass was worth it.
Feeling at peace and ready to face the day I left the church and headed out to the parking lot to meet Scott and transfer the girls from his car to mine. Normally during this transfer I’m met with some moans from my seven year old about how I made her get out of bed early to come meet me (she’s practicing for when she’s a sleep-deprived teen). If Claire isn’t moaning then my feisty five year old lets me know she’s starving and has yet to eat breakfast. But in the back of my mind I’m thinking today is going to be different. Today, afterall, is my birthday. Surely their dad has coached them and told that today they ought to give some appropriate loving birthday greeting to their mom.
Sure enough, the girls are wide awake and ready to greet me. Claire bursts from the car with a stack of handmade cards and wishes me a happy birthday. How sweet. Now it’s Ella’s turn. What sweetness will my youngest offspring bring to this day? With a big grin and her loud voice Ella shouts out…
Lordy, Lordy, look who’s forty!
I look at Scott. He’s trying not to laugh and gives me this look that says I have no idea where she got that from. So much for dad’s coaching. I look at Claire who is looking at Ella with her big sister knows more than little sister look. She promptly steps in to be my hero and to set the record straight…
Hey Ella, you’re wrong. She’s not forty yet. She’s thirty-nine. She’ll be old next year. Right Mom?
Uh well, thanks for clarifying things Claire.
So, I’m not old yet. According to my firstborn I have one more year to be young. Well, 364 days to be exact…but who’s counting? 🙂