Birthday Boy

Shammond's birthday was yesterday. He is with dad on Washington Island. Joe tells me that Shammond made his own birthday cake, created and sent his own birthday invitations to friends, and made lunch to take. "Do you need any help?" dad asked. "I can handle it," said Shammond.

A newly minted 11-year-old who can handle it. Sounds sad to me. Where is mom when a fuss needs to be made? Who cuddled? I called on the phone and sang Happy Birthday. "Now, let's see, you are twenty-five years old today, right?" Wrong joke. I could hear it in his voice. Mom may be able to miss the birthday but she had better remember how old he is. No laughing matter.