Dad's Birthday

I am a birthday boob. I celebrate birthdays; I make a big deal of them, so, of course, this week I took full advantage to celebrate Dad's birthday on the 13th, beginning on the 12th and extending to the 14th. You might ask if I am a party girl, and I would have to say, "Yes, indeed." I got tickets for a theater-in-the-round version of Christmas Carol set in 1941 in wartime Washington D.C. just three weeks after the bombing at Pearl Harbor. This time the ghosts who came were statues of Freedom and Winged Liberty from Washington DC and Scrooge was a profiteer, trying to make money off of coming war shortages. Then in the evening we went to a free press screening of The Kite Runner. I loved the book for a number of reasons, but mainly, I think because I love stories about redemption, things broken (like hearts) that are healed. Then on Dad's actual birthday we went to the National Portrait Gallery and wandered through the galleries of American history, especially inventors and abolitionists. Life is eternally rich. That afternoon we saw Mariah's A Cappella group perform at the Burke Racquet Club and heard Michaela's orchestra. All well done.