Did I ever tell you that really funny story where, two years ago, I forgot my mother’s birthday? For a month? And no one in my family mentioned this to me, even as the weeks dragged by, because they are all sadists? And I was at Ross’s house visiting, and I checked my email, and there were some photographs from my Dad, and one of them was of my mum sitting in front of a cake and flowers (and still, still no mention of the birthday in the email)? And Ross’s Dad said, “Oh, was it your mother’s birthday?”And I said, “Oh, no. My mum’s birthday isn’t until — OH. Oh. Shit.”

And then I felt like the worst daughter in the world for several weeks, until my now six-week belated birthday gift arrived at the house in Singapore?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here to tell you that the regret and suffering of that occurence apparently did not leave a deep enough scar upon my heart. For the 27th of July is my mother’s birthday, and lo, verily did the hours of that day go past in Cambridge, MA without a finger being lifted to dial the number of my mother.

I realized this afternoon in the middle of my first fight* with Ross since we got married, which was awful because I had to ask if I could borrow his phone and I was just in the middle of a good meaningful silence. And so I called my mother, and I apologized for not sending flowers or otherwise acknowledging her birthday, and she whinged at me goodnaturedly for a bit. We laughed. Then she said, in mock indignation, “And you actually talked to me on my birthday, too!” What?

Turns out we’d spoken on the 26th (when it was already the morning of the 27th in Singapore), and once again my mother breathed not a word to me when I didn’t say “Happy Birthday.” Sadist.

A very, very beautiful and wonderful sadist, though. Who will be receiving an enormous bouquet of flowers any day now.

*Relax, parents and parents-in-law. I use the word “fight” only for dramatic effect. You can keep on smiling. ;-)

P.S. Title courtesy of Jo. She’ll have to tell me if I got it right.

P.P.S. The Ash-monster is sick. Pretty sick. Send good vibes to Singapore, please. He needs them to make his fever go down so they can stop stuffing drugs up his bottom.