When I was young, elementary school age, my mother found me one Christmas night playing with my new toys and took me to her bedroom closet where there was a Christmas gift hidden behind her hanging clothes that she had forgotten to wrap and place under the tree…a Barbie house. I was ecstatic, not only because it was what I wanted, but because I got it after Christmas morning was all over.
Well, tonight (December 30) I was going over our online banking and noticed a description for “Uintah Golf.” At that precise moment a horrifying (actually, amusing) realization came over me. There was a Christmas gift for Mister that I had completely forgotten about. So I called him downstairs to the basement, to the storage room, and moved away the storage boxes on the top shelf to pull out, from the back, a Club Glove…a golf travel bag. “Merry Christmas darling!”
Just call me “Beth.”
I think that Mom is only about 41 to 43 in that picture. I thought that she was so old, and I have her beat by at least 5 years…wow, ugh. She looks great for having 11 kids.
You’re not Beth. Not even close.