Kool-Aid And A Snickers Bar

I wrote about a page - whining about my day and complaining about the kids in my class - and then I realized that I had failed to recognize the obvious: My Mother Is Celebrating Her Birthday. That's the news.
It would be indiscreet to mention just how many trips around the sun today marks, but it is important to note that it is a significant number, one that allows for a certain amount of dignity and respect. Far be it from me, however, to openly acknowledge that respect, but I feel compelled to mention it nonetheless.
Here's the deal: Without my mother's love, faith and encouragement, I would not be here to whine and complain. When I was a kid, I walked home from Columbine Elementary School every day to find a snack ready for me at the end of the kitchen table and a question: "How was your day?" She was really interested. And here's the really amazing thing: She was really interested in what was happening with all three of her sons. She asked us all. She listened to all three of us tell her about the trouble we had in gym, or the way that fractions were just like decimals, or the kid that sits next to me smells.
In all that time, it never occurred to me to ask her, "How was your day?" I was so caught up in downloading my elementary travails that I never bothered to find out. As I've grown older, I want to believe that I've gotten better at this. I want to know, especially today. I hope that she had a great day today - her birthday.