Wednesday, 4/5

Happy birthday, Mom.

Those of you who read this on a regular basis know that, like all kids, I was a special little bundle of joy to my parents, especially my mother. But there are a couple of stories I haven't told for a few years, so those of you who are new to this, did you know that I didn’t pop out into the world until just a little past my due date.

30 days past my due date, to be exact.

Yup; I spent 10 months in the oven, instead of nine (December 4^th is pretty much the same as November 4^th, isn’t it?), and seeing as how I was the first born in the family, I’m kinda surprised that after that little shocker, my parents decided to have any other kids. And you’ll be happy to know that following my auspicious debut in the world, I held myself up to a high standard. I think I’ve written in here about how a three year old me once opened a dozen boxes of cereal in a grocery store in search of free stuff, and I think I’ve written in here before about how a seven year old me once spent an entire night at the dinner table refusing to eat Brussels Sprouts. 

And then there's the banana story.

When I was somewhere around the neighborhood of two years old, I, like many kids (even those who weren’t born a month late), developed this strange eating habit. For days on end, I would eat nothing but bananas and milk. Bananas and milk for breakfast, bananas and milk for lunch, bananas and milk for dinner and, if I had a snack, I’m sure it was bananas and milk. According to the tale, my mom tried feeding me other foods but I, at the time, would not eat them. It was bananas and milk or nothing.

Knowing kids go through food cycles, my mom gave me bananas and milk. After all, they’re both good for growing kids, and I seemed happy eating them. Well, after a week or so of eating nothing but bananas and milk, I caught some kind of bug. It wasn’t related to my diet or anything; it was just one of those bugs kids catch. But it was bad enough that one day, after eating my usual meal of bananas and milk, I got sick. Really sick.

And I spewed my bananas and milk all over the kitchen.

Now, I know you’re thinking to yourself--your mom was pregnant with you for 10 months, and this is how you repay her? And I, hanging my head somewhat in shame, say, uh, “yeah”. But in my defense, I WAS only two at the time. And I haven’t spewed bananas and milk around a kitchen since; in fact, I haven’t eaten a banana since that fateful day. I actually get a little nauseous, even today, at the smell and taste of that particular kind of fruit.

That's just one of the ways in which I was a special child, and yet, my Mom still seems to like me. So with that in mind, let’s all collectively wish my mom a happy birthday today. After everything that she’s been put through, I have a feeling she deserves it.

Happy birthday, Mom!!!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget that I'm still looking for your vote on which picture to stick on my travel laptop. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, scroll down to yesterday's entry for details and the pictures from which you can choose!)