I believe in birthday months. Especially when one’s birthday is at the very beginning of the mine. As such is mine. My son, however, is near the end of the month. Before covid, we always took him on a trip for his birthday. Usually an international one. This year there was no such trip. And, on top of it all, there’s a tropical storm. When it rains, it indeed does pour.
Regardless, we turned this into a birthday weekend. Today our bit was to go bowling. And, I’m no good at it at all. If I showed you my score you’d be aghast. But that’s ok.
Look. My son is turning 13. That’s huge. And, its also ok for him to know and understand mommy isn’t great at everything but she can still have fun with it. We even hugged it out on the lane as I sent my ball down the gutter for the umpteenth time.
It’s all good. Now, I’m listening to the heavy rain drops pound our roof and we get to chill and wonder how we’ll celebrate next year, this time. What does the world have planned for us all?