Today is my mother’s 50th birthday. She likes to say that the first day of Spring falls on her birthday. To celebrate the milestone of her 50th birthday, she wants to get a tattoo. Though she hasn’t settled on just which of her hobbies to immortalize in ink.
My mother can knit you a sweater (or a scarf or gloves), and sew you a Halloween costume (or curtains), and remodel a room of your house (or install your garbage disposal), saw down your tree (or plant your garden), design you a website (disability accessible of course), make you the very best lasagna (or whoopie pies!), and volunteer for your political campaign (or your impromptu soup kitchen), and identify endless species of birds (snakes, bats and various other animals, fossils and bugs). And she can force you to go to summer camp (or church youth group) against your will, knowing that one day you’ll learn to love it.
But as she says of my sister and I (who are 23 years apart), she can only raise one kid at a time.
Happy Birthday Mother! We love you.
Edited to add: Birthday tattoo is done!