I flew out to San Diego last night to surprise my mom for her 75th birthday. I tell you, there is nothing more satisfying than waiting quietly for a 75-year-old woman to walk into her house so you can yell Happy Birthday.
Good news: her pacemaker works.
If she wore pants, I’m fairly certain she would have pooped them. I wish I recorded her reaction because it was a beautiful blend of excitement to see me and relief I wasn’t a murderer. So this week, I’ll be hanging out with my mama and brother and enjoying a week off of work.
So far, the birthday girl requested lunch at Islands Restaurant. This was her meal.
That’s what you do when your 75. Get exactly what you want. No shame. She’s like the honey badger. She don’t care.
We’re going to dinner tonight, so I ordered the turkey burger off the lighter menu.
Then I proceeded to eat half of mom’s fries so that idea was a bust. (Seriously the best sweet potato fries I’ve ever had. Let’s add Islands to the list of places we need in Orlando.)
Anyway, I need to get ready for tonight’s celebration. Mom is making herself a mudslide as we speak and it’s not even 5:00pm. That’s a woman after my own heart. Happy Birthday Mama Bird!