Tomorrow – January 20th – is my birthday – my day. MINE. Yes, yes, it’s Inauguration Day too. But not knowing of any other sharing that birthdate, it was okay by me (from early childhood) that the president did so every four years.

Then I met Peter and found out my stepson Charlie’s birthday is January 19th. Okay – yes – I can handle that. Yes, it’s one day before – but – hey – it’s not on the day. Come to find out my (then) newly acquired nephew David’s birthday is January 21st. Close, but no cigar. But – you know – my day is being crowded. (A most glaring downfall and detriment of mine is I indiscriminately tend toward staunch self-defense and possession for no sane apparent reason.)

My greatest teachers are my children.

We recently received a richly creative invite in the mail – from my son and his mate. We are requested to attend their ‘legally binding marriage agreements’ as well as ‘a surprise regarding the chromosomal pairing of our progeny’ on – my birthday – January 20th.

Lesson learned – learn to share and be glad for it!