This is the phone conversation I had with my favorite person this morning, MEMAW:
(phone rings while I am in bathroom)
(Loving husband proceeds to shove ringing iPhone under bathroom door)
Memaw: Well, hello! Happy Birthday, Amanda! (No one calls me Amanda in my family, but everyone else calls me Mandy. My niece calls me Aunt Manna. That's right, pouring from the Heavens and offering sustenance. You are welcome, Rural Indiana.)
ME: Thanks Memaw. Whatcha up to today?
Memaw: Hating winter, gosh it'll just never end. Yesterday was your uncle's birthday! And next month is mine and your aunt's!
ME: I didn't know his birthday was yesterday...hmmm..
Memaw: Yep, and me and your Papaw brought you and your mother home from the hospital because your father (read: sperm donor) wasn't around that week! Well your uncle is taking me to Bob Evans, have a good birthday!
ME: Hey, um, Memaw just called me and quickly told me the sperm donor wasn't around the week of my birth...
Momma: Jesus, yes he was, he had to WORK. He was there, but he had to WORK that day.
ME: Vodka ain't free.
Momma proceeds to sing a half-hearted rendition of happy birthday to me.
Momma: Aren't you excited to be 90 and be able to say whatever, then cut the hell out and go eat at Bob Evans?
ME: I am excited to be 29 and say whatever I want, then cut the hell out and drink bourbon.
Momma: Ah, kid. See you at noon.
I FREAKING love my family.