Time flies when you’re having fun, our little Sheldon is turning 21 years old. Of course I had her when I was 12 explaining why we get mistaken for sisters. Okay maybe not sisters but one can dare to dream. Last night she left the house at 11:30 to meet her friends for her “Power Hour”. I obviously need to watch more MTV’s Jersey Shore in order to be up on the lingo. Fortunately, in her mind it meant having her first drink in the first hour on her birthday, not 21 shots in an hour as defined by Wikipedia. She is such a different creature then the Big Tuna and me, below are some of my stand out memories. I tried to get Sheldon to play this game with me in the truck today, but she was having none of that. Perhaps nursing a little hangover, she denies it.
I remember the time she bit Bebe’s son on the hand. Sean had the toddler silent scream face. You know the frozen one before they take that big breath and a giant shriek comes out. Bebe immediately called the pediatrician making me feel like a horrible parent who let their rabid child roam the street without its shock collar.
Shortly after Sheldon got her driver’s license she called me in the small almost crying voice. “Mom, I just got a speeding ticket, Dad is going to kill me!” Baby Girl, we all got speeding tickets, when I first met your fine daddy, he’d lost his own license for too many points on his for speeding. That’s why he had to walk uphill both ways everywhere. We won’t talk about her criminal speeding ticket from last year.
Once when we went to the bath and lotion place perusing the shelves for a lotion to help with dishpan hands we discovered our most overused phrase. When I queried the shop girl about the benefits of one cream over another she described it as “more thicker”. More thicker I asked? Yes more thicker. This has led us to several grammatically incorrect discussions, more funner, most bestest, to the point where we really need to stop before people think we really are dumber than rocks.
When doing the potential grand tour for college, we made a little side trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan. Don’t get me wrong, I like art but I have the attention span of a gnat. Look, admire, move one. Sheldon is of the same mind. The modern art exhibit was our favorite, we kept saying, This? Is Art? One artist painted twenty 4 foot by 6 foot canvases a different shade, it looked like paint sample sheets at Home Depot. We were also a little freaked out by the union elevator guy, I thought he was going to break my arm when I went to push the button for the third floor. No unions in Arizona. To commemorate her big day, here is one of her favorite recipes.
6 thick slices French bread, toasted under broiler and cubed
½ cucumber peeled and cubed
½ red onion diced
1 ½ tomatoes cut in wedges
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste
6 ounces feta cheese crumbled
1 cup kalamata olives, no pits
In bowl, combine cucumber, onion, tomato, vinegar, salt and pepper. Let stand for a bit, stirring occasionally until juicy. Add remaining ingredients and stir well. Serve immediately. This is a great side dish to ho hum potato salad and lets you change it up a bit.
Most people would reminisce about highlights and accomplishments their children reach on this milestone. We are more than a little proud of our little buttercup but the family that laughs together stays together. Of course Sheldon continues to have curfew much to her dismay. She may not need her beauty sleep but as parents who get up at 4:30 we need all the help we can get in the good looks department. Happy Birthday Kimberly, we love you the most-est.