No offense, but I am getting on my soap box today.
One afternoon last week my 8th grader Mary came home and told me her lab partner turned to her during class and said, "No offense, but I really don't want to work with you."
The next day seven-year-old Dorothy got off the school bus and shared that after hearing her rendition of Tomorrow fromLittle Orphan Annie, her classmate said to her, "No offense, but that sounded horrible.
Celebrating my birthday this week started me thinking about how birthdays change as you get older.
When I was younger I was focused on the gifts--a grooming set, a new pair of boots, a cowboy hat--anything that would better equip me to care for or enjoy my horse. I shared my mom's birthday as well as my grandfather's, but as far as I can remember, the focus was usually on me, the baby. I am sure my sisters would agree.
Now that I am grown with kids of my own, I enjoy simple luxuries on my birthday: chocolate (Dove or above, thank you), a homemade poster of everyone's hand prints (Emma thought of that herself), dozens of good wishes form Facebook, an uninterrupted nap.