_{^{~Groovin' With Soccamom~}}

I got a birthday card from my mother yesterday. You'd think that of all the people in the world, the one person who can spell my name just might be my mother. Don't count on it, Bub. I'm sure that along with a creeping form of Korean senility, she is just plain kooky. There are generally two standard and accepted ways of spelling my name. I use the shorter version of the two. Common. I mean very common. Not only did she spell my name wrong...and I'm talking about my first name...the one she gave me, not my married surname, folks...but she got the street name so wierded up that I can't believe the card even made it here, let alone two days early. Oh well, at least she remembered. Oh, but she forgot how old I will be. That must just be wishful thinking on her part.

My husband, Secret Agent Man, finally got me the perfect gift without even too much prodding (cough: yeah right :cough) in the form of a Banana Republic gift card. Unfortunately, he left tonight and won't be home till Saturday. Life on the road continues.

In the meantime, I suppose I should search my recipe books. Traditionally at work if it is your birthday you bring in a treat. I'd better get to baking.
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