birthday

“Miriam, can you come to the front desk, please?” It was Louise, the company receptionist.

“Here, read this.” It was Miriam’s birthday and Louise handed her a birthday card.

“Thank you.” Miriam smiled.

“NO, read it.” She glanced again. “Thank you.” she smiled yet again.

“NO, MIRIAM, Read it.” So she did, carefully this time.

“You are easily a 10 cow wife (some cultures, the story is, “buy” wives and very few are valued above 5 or 6 cows), but I don’t like cows.”
“How about a Cavalier.”

Miriam looked up in curious wonder.

Louise held up a pair of car keys and pointed out the front windows of the reception area.

It was mid January, cold and snowy. There was 12 or 15 inches of snow on the ground. The new 1992 Cavalier Coupe’ in Maui blue had a wide red ribbon wrapped around the top. It was stunning.

And, Miriam was truly flabbergasted.

Inside the car I left another card. “I can afford it, I think, and you definitely deserve it. I love you, dave.”

There was a silk scarf hanging off the rear view mirror, and in each ash tray, the glove box, the trunk, everywhere I could, I had stuffed a dozen pair of bright colored scanties -- Miriam’s size, of course.

Later daughter 1 was telling a friend about how her dad bought her mom a new car for her birthday.

“Wow, your dad must be loaded.”

“No, he will pay for this for the next 5 years,” and I did.

She took very good care of that car and almost 16 years later we still drive it every day.