Things I Find in my Basement #22

Today is the 18th birthday of one of my biggest fans. He laughs at most of my worst jokes, loves most of my cooking and almost everything I write, and he gives really nice hugs when I’m sad.  The nine months I was pregnant with him we lived near the beach in a house with spiders and ants, and I could go to town in my pajamas and be the best-dressed person at the Post Office. Many days it was foggy, but you could hear the surf when the wind was right. 

Happy Birthday, Max.

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