Glittering Birthday tiara, emblazoned with "Birthday Bitch", sent forth by my surviving sister, sits askew the lampshade. A half eaten bag of tortilla chips remains on the table, dyed navy and green, in honor of the Seattle Seahawks. Perfuming the air, a squat, clear, vase filled with short-cut, long-stemmed, white and red roses.
Birthday cards litter my counter and tabletop, wishing me a "Happy Birthday" in varying shades of funny. One tells me my sister "squeezed a unicorn to make me a rainbow" and there sits a rainbow-hued pile of poop. Another tells me a "Birthday Hug is Incoming" as a grey kitten flies through the air, from my husband. Still another, tells me that my mother "was going to get a flash mob together to do a birthday dance"; when you open the card, it belts out "Everybody Dance Now" and a little man vibrating (dancing).
One good musical card deserves another and I have one left from last year from my sister, Renee. The last birthday card my baby sister will ever get me and it's a good one. Pink and furry with big eyes and it sings about Birthday cupcakes. One day it will stop singing but it sang for me this year.
Birthday cards litter my counter and tabletop, wishing me a "Happy Birthday" in varying shades of funny. One tells me my sister "squeezed a unicorn to make me a rainbow" and there sits a rainbow-hued pile of poop. Another tells me a "Birthday Hug is Incoming" as a grey kitten flies through the air, from my husband. Still another, tells me that my mother "was going to get a flash mob together to do a birthday dance"; when you open the card, it belts out "Everybody Dance Now" and a little man vibrating (dancing).
One good musical card deserves another and I have one left from last year from my sister, Renee. The last birthday card my baby sister will ever get me and it's a good one. Pink and furry with big eyes and it sings about Birthday cupcakes. One day it will stop singing but it sang for me this year.
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