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The girls spent the day before my birthday at our house. When I arrived home from my activity of the day, H1 ran to the garage and warned me not to look at what she was doing. She was hard at work on dad’s computer preparing my present. I walked to our bedroom with eyes closed-ish.

A few minutes later, she called out.

“Ok BB. It’s ready. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

She walked in with her computer. My partner followed.

A powerpoint slide show ensued. She had photos, appearing from the side, and sweet words, which splashed on. Then a two-dimensional column graph appeared.

The words, What Bahar Does, flew to the bottom of the page.

First category on the x line read: Get Mad at Children.

She pressed the space bar. The blue rectangle on the graph kept rising forever to indicate 100% of the time.

I froze. Remember, their father is present as this fiasco is transpiring.

Holy Mother of God! When was this? What did I do to them?

She went on. Next category: Sit on the Couch.

It’s sofa. I need to reinforce the word sofa.

The green rectangle rose to 75% of the time.

WTF? It’s a known fact that I can’t sit still for too long.

The following category, Play With Kids, represented by a yellow rectangle, was hardly visible. It stood at a millimeter to indicate I’m guessing 5%.

Oh my God. This is bad.

Loves Her Family. The orange rectangle rose about 2 millimeters to about 10%.

It’s happened. I have turned evil and they know it. Shit, shit, shit.

“Keep looking.  Are you still reading?” she giggled.

What is there to read? I think I have read it all. 

The next slide read: What Bahar REALLY Does.

The graphs reversed, with loving her family at 100%, playing with kids at 75%, sitting on the couch at 10% and getting mad at children at about 5%.

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Seriously?

I’m not sure what happened in those few minutes: a mini-stroke or a silent myocardial infarction.

I let out a big breath and tried to bring down my heart rate while she ended the presentation with a video of her singing a very energetic birthday song.

We are back in business then.

Her sister’s gift was a little gentler. She had made me origami rose, heart, and sunglasses, none of which induced an emergency condition.

It fascinates me that as a grown woman, who never gave a hoot about what others thought, how affected I am by what these two little girls think of me.

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