To the only boy who lives in this house (no, kids, the cat doesn’t count):
God bless you for putting up with us. Lord knows it isn’t easy living with 3 girls who sometimes nag on you, like in the car when everyone is playing backseat driver while you’re trying to cut 4 lanes across the Grand Army Plaza traffic circle against oncoming cars. And when in the future you get the door slammed in your face by a hormonal 12 year old, a flippant 10 year old, or a pissed off Middle Age Mom, just remember how funny it was when little C would pretend to be really fuming mad, crossing her arms and stomping towards her room with her angry little scrunched up face and slamming the door. Just remember that it’s not likely you, but probably us – any one of us girls in the house. And I know you still have one more year to go, but will ya hurry up and turn 40 already? I don’t like being in a different decade, sheesh. It makes me sound old and it’s already bad enough that I’ll always be 2 years older than you for the rest of our lives.
Happy Birthday, Mark.