I should have learned a long time ago that being born at the beginning of planting season is a guarantee that my birthday would be forgotten. Being the daughter of a farmer, my birthday greeting from my Dad was normally sent via a quick trip to the planter. Or it was given over the tractor radio, for the whole farm to hear! And now being married to a farmer, I know what to expect.
The kids had done a great job of reminding the husband of what I wanted for my birthday, a magnolia tree. Next time they should remind him to actually wish me a happy birthday before it’s time for lunch.
To the contrast, the first thing my kids did when they woke up was come give me giant hugs. That will make anyone have a much better time dealing with turning a year older.
I’ll give my husband some credit. At some point in his crazy farm schedule, between hauling pig manure, fixing broken tractors and working ground, he managed a trip to the greenhouse to buy a magnolia tree. And I hope it blooms like this some day.
So my husband forgot to wish me a Happy Birthday. It’s ok. Hopefully we’ll have 50 or 60 more years together for him to remember!
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