My birthday is tomorrow. January 9. I turn 30 this year. TAKE THAT! Doctor who informed my mother to "make me comfortable and let me die" when I was suffering from the congenital heart defects that were untreated. I betcha he never expected me to live past two, let alone twenty-nine. Yeah, he can eat his words.
Today is Elvis's birthday. Oh Elvis! *swoon* Makes me think of my Mary. She loves her some Elvis, and so do I!
My brother C informed me a long time ago that I wasn't cool enough to be born on Elvis's birthday and I got the "clean-up" birthday. Thanks, C. ;)
So, Happy Birthday Elvis. I'm sorry you aren't alive anymore, but you are famous - even after your death. Good for you. Sorry you can't be here to enjoy this, but I think you might still be around. After all, there are numerous sightings of you all around the world, even now!
Yeah, 30. I'm not ready but it's coming and already here come tomorrow. A new decade. More new adventures. I can do it! After all, I'm like my momma - I'm tough!
Daughter of ours, to the best of the rent's recollection, there was never a doctor who uttered the words "make her comfortable and let her die"'in reference to vous, our baby girl. the mater figure thinks you might have heard those words, but they were uttered in reference to her baby sister Patty. Whatever the case might be, me thinks all that heart business (and your pater figure forbidding your mater figure to wrap you up in cotton, never to be exposed to the light of day nor put in potential harms way)served to make vous the resilient little cookie that vous art today. Still a fine piece of creative writing! Elvis would be proud. :) pater p.s. chalk this rant up to the 'Boys being ahead 34-14 and myself busy working myself to the bottom of a second batch of Cowboyritas. hee hee
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