Of course, I will call my mother, and I am sure, sorta, that my boys will call me, but I still figure it doesn't hurt to put it out there.
On Thursday, I realized it was my brother's birthday. I meanty to put that out here when I got home from work, but that the Goddess of Chinese Food distracted me and I am just now remembering.
Happy Birthday to my brother David. He just turned 53 and that means he is really old. The last time I spoke to him was in 1980 during the winter olympics. He and his girlfriend (or wife?) came up to the mountains for about a day and they dropped off their daughter Barbara who was a baby then. David said "Hey kid."
Did he not remember my name? Who knows.
There isn't any animosity or drama, at least none I am aware of, we just weren't raiased together. My mom was married before she married my dad, and when she and her first hubbo divorced the kids went with him. I know that was an odd occurence 45 or so years ago, but don't ask don't tell seems to be the method in my family, so I really know nothing of the circumstances.
So Happy Day all around. I want some Italian Toast.