Today is my grandma's birthday. I feel terrible because all day, in the back of my head, I was reminding myself: Call Grandma. Call Grandma. Call Grandma.
Guess what? Right. I didn't call her.
First I was out and about town, pampering myself. Then I returned home and launched into spastic mommy mode, cleaning house and laundering and ironing and packing for our trip. Before I knew it, it was 9 pm, and although my grandparents are night owls, it is just, like, against my religion or something to call anybody after 9 pm unless it is an absolute emergency. Is a birthday an emergency?
Grandma, I don't know if you ever venture onto the internet, but here is proof that I was thinking of you today: