I adore my birthday. I get to dress up, eat an excessive quantity of cake, and enjoy the fact that I am legally obligated to be kind to others on this one day of the year. Or at least it ought to have been that way. But it became a conflict of wills and a test of my patience because of my sister-in-law Lucinda and her devil-spawn kids.
It began with a straightforward barbecue in the backyard. My niece and nephew were whispering by the pool as I was enjoying an ice-cold drink, music, and a grill. They weren’t exactly criminal masterminds, as seen by the way they side-eyed and giggled at my neighbor Sandra. Their first target was Sandra, a charming woman in her fifties who could outswim Michael Phelps if needed. They were about to lunge at her when she made a last-minute ninja-like dodge, leaving them to fumble in midair. They came very close to a very wet catastrophe when they slid to a stop, which was fortunate for them (and my patio furniture). Always the good sport, Sandra simply laughed and returned to her drink. Lucinda, though? She looked up from her phone just a little.