I was sitting at the kitchen table, updating our kitchen calendar, when I realized that summer really and truly is over.
Take a look at the first half of the month. Then look at the second half of the month. And school hasn't even officially started yet!
Summer = freedom.
School + activities = stress.
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The Boy's birthday was July 11th. Mr. Wonderful was speaking to his mother a few days later and gently tried to remind her about it, since The Boy hadn't received a card in the mail from her. Since she is 86 years old, he assumed that she had forgotten.
She indignantly claimed that she had indeed sent The Boy a card with a check inside. Mr. Wonderful tried to tell her that it never came but she was adamant that she had sent him a check.
Mr. Wonderful, because he is so wonderful, wisely chose to let the matter drop. He naturally assumed that his sweet old mother was simply losing her mind. He told The Boy that Gramma said she had sent something and shrugged his shoulders - the implication being, "Gramma's old and doesn't remember. What can I do?" The Boy, being an eternal optimist, said, "It's OK. That's one less thank-you note I have to write!"
Fast forward to August 10th. Guess what arrived in the mail?
Check out that postmark...
I think someone, a wonderful son perhaps, owes Gramma an apology for doubting her, don't you?
(PS. In Mr. Wonderful's defense, it must be noted that Gramma did, in fact, forget HIS birthday one year!)
