The Land of Used-to-Be, or, Happy Birthday, Mom!

Mom is entering the Land of  Used-to-Be, as in: "I used to be such a fast runner! I used to be such a good tennis player! I used to be able to do the Friday and Saturday New York Times crossword puzzles in five minutes!"

To which I say, Mom, you run everyone around you, especially me, completely ragged, so just stop it.

(One notable exception: Grandma. She makes everyone look like they're moving in stop time.)

A complete day for Mom ends with her being happily exhausted. In summer, this means: running, rowing, swimming, gardening, going to the dump, cleaning, going for several walks, then (it seems to me) starting all over again. In winter, it's ice skating, cross-country skiing, shoveling, walks, cleaning, dump, etc. etc. Also, working. Sometimes, cooking.

So for Mom's birthday, Dad wants her to relax. He suggests going out to lunch. "Waste of a beautiful day!" Mom replies. Eating is not high up on Mom's agenda, which is one area in which we are not at all alike. In fact, eating rates pretty high on my agenda. Only sleeping is higher. That's because my agenda has just two items.

So happy birthday, Mom! My gift to you: I promise to go for an extra walk if you promise to let me nap for the rest of the day.