Happy birthday, Mum.my

I have been a very bad daughter, I believe. I didn't do and take enough actions for my mother to remember me, not even for my bits and pieces. Either that, or she just doesn't believe that I would go into much trouble to send her a birthday card to wish her on her big day. At least not when I'm not in the country.

Two days ago was her birthday and I am still out of the country. Yesterday the postman brought her a birthday card, from me and Wonderful Guy. In most likelihood, the postman around noon. In the late evening, I got a mail from her, informing me she got a card from Wonderful Guy, and that she sent an sms to thank him but it had yet to get through, then. She wanted to get his email from me.

I was a little disappointed. It was my idea to get the card, I chose and got the card, wrote on the card and the details on the envelope. Wonderful Guy signed it beneath his name, and brought it back to help me get the card posted, since he was travelling back.

Had my ugly and unstable handwriting finally be my undoing? It could have been so unrecognizable that the only clue to ascertain the sender of the card was from the postmark, which was of course from where Wonderful Guy dropped it off into postbox, in his hometown. Or, my track record made it quite not possible that I would be the sender. Or, so smitten she is of Wonderful Guy, she has forgotten me? Oh my, might this be the first case of Kulit Lupakan Kacang?

Nah, I guessed she just didn't expect that I would send her a birthday card. Furthermore, since I've not made any mentioned at all to her on this on the her birthday call or in any one of the mails I sent her, or during the calls we had over the net. This does make me realize that she doesn't recognise my handwriting or style of writing, if that's possible.

Happy birthday, Mum.my. Remember me, please, for the good stuff too. I'm possible for those, as well.