leigh@waffle.leigh@waffle.whiffer.atl.ga.us *1: Us* I couldn't believe it when my kids threw me a surprise party this year. Well, the party was really no surprise, because Scarlett, the oldest at sixteen, kept asking me questions like "Is it really hard to bake a cake?" and Jason, my fourteen year-old, has never been interested in making sure that I had "a fun day out shopping" before. It was pretty easy to tell they were up to something, especially since they started being awfully polite and charming the day before my birthday. It just isn't in character for them, you know what I mean? I love my kids, but they're hellions just the same. I suppose what I couldn't believe is that there were actually forty candles on the cake. Scarlett and Jason had a good giggle at that: "wow, looks like the whole table is on fire, Mom!" and "gee, if you get any older we'll have to make a bigger cake" and all those great things that kids think are so funny at sixteen... and twenty years later don't find all that humorous anymore, somehow. Well, that's the breaks. I had done just about the same thing to my parents. It was a nice birthday, all in all. My husband Ben, who had reached the dreaded four-oh two years ago, gave me a bra and panty set which was made mostly out of hope, with a little lace tacked on. The kids went wild when they saw it. I knew why Ben had given it to me in front of them. He wanted to get a good chuckle out of my red cheeks as much as he wanted to see my other cheeks hanging out of that little panty later on. I resolved to be especially cruel to him on *his* next birthday. "Wooooo!" Jason said, laughing like the very idea of me in sexy underwear was ridiculous. |