As is her custom, my mother sings me happy birthday. After a few lines, she stops abruptly.
“Wait. How old are you?”
“Crap that’s old. Oh my god. Ok, let me keep singing.”
She continues singing, even adding the stuff at the end about having “many more on channel four.”
Dad gets on the phone next and tells me that my birthday “probably” won’t be broadcast on channel four.
It’s ok. After 38 years, I’m starting to catch on to the fact that the channel four stuff is wishful thinking. Of course, birthdays and wishes go together like cake and ice cream. So I’m truly touched by all of the wishes that came my way today. Thanks you all!
(And for those of you who wanted a birthday story, I hope that does the trick).