It’s Ruth’s 74th birthday today. We get to spend it with our “California kids” and our newest grandson, Jackson James. On our trip west we lied to the 
TSA personnel in Orlando. I overheard one of the agents explain to a customer that travelers 75 and older aren’t required to remove their shoes. I whispered to Ruth, “If you say you’re 75 you can keep your shoes on.” So she did. The TSA agent’s response made Ruth’s day when he said in disbelief, “You’re 75? Lookin good mama!”
With two metal knees, I need to go through the full screen, super-duper, x-ray machine. As I approached the agent said, “You’ll have to remove your shoes.” I replied, “I’m seventy-five.” Then he said, “You don’t look 75, what’s your secret?” And I said, “New knees.”
Other than getting into a bar with my cousin, Gene, when I was 18, it’s the first time I’ve lied about being older.
We’ve loved meeting our newest grandson. So far, he’s been well behaved. He coos and smiles a lot. Everyone likes that. He’s got his dad’s nose, but everything else looks like his mom, except his feet. He’s got Ruth’s toes – loooooonnng. I think his deep gray eyes will end of being blue. As I said in a previous post, I think he’s going to be a lefty, and if he is, I’m going to write a child development book about predicting a boy’s right or left handedness based upon the use of his bird finger.
Ruth and I have celebrated her birthday a total of fifty-two times since we first met. I bought her a new outfit for the first birthday we shared. It had a beige jacket and matching skirt with a powder blue blouse. I have a picture of her wearing it in a stack of photos in Michigan. Like us, it is showing its age, but I enjoy looking at it just the same.
We’ve celebrated her birthdays at home in Michigan, Myrtle Beach, Florida and now California. The year she turned thirty-nine, Michael planned a surprise after school birthday party for his mom. It was Friday, April 11, 1986. He was a couple months shy of his ninth birthday. We came home right after school so we could bake her a cake. He invited our neighbors, Emil and Jenny, to join David, Elizabeth and me. When Ruth failed to show when we thought she’d be home, I called the Friday afternoon group, “Ladies’ Aide”, she sometimes attended, and she headed home. Luckily, everyone sat tight until she arrived for her surprise.
Number seventy-four is low key because we’re focused on young Jackson James. We’ll have a cake and candles and sing her a song. She’s stated that she’d like next year’s 75th birthday to be a grand affair. If I can track him down, I may invite the Orlando TSA agent.