June 6, June 6

Guess what today is?

It's PAM's birthday!

And no, I'm not talking about the Extra Virgin Olive Oil Cooking Spray. I'm talking about my Punk-Ass Mom.

Here she is when she was a kid (I have no idea how old she might be in this picture) (I am really bad at guessing peoples ages) (I mean, if you told me she was 4 in this picture, I'd believe you, and if you told me she was 8 in this picture, I'd believe you too--that's pretty much the range I'm getting here: she's definitely somewhere between 4 and 8) , before she was a punk-ass:

I won't say how old she's turning today, out of respect for the elderly. But the following picture is from her 14th birthday:

Note how bored my cousins Ellen and Jeff are in this photo (okay, technically they're my mom's first cousins, which means they're my second cousins, not just my "cousins," but I figured I could say the shorthand "cousins" because I knew I'd just go and make a pointless parenthetical statement about it any minute).

Okay, now we're jumping forward in time quite a bit with the next photo...(Pam's probably about 24, or thereabouts, in this one):

And here she is at 30ish (and this photo is kinda weird because even though I look exactly like my father--like, exactly--I can also look like my mother a lot and I think this picture looks like me) (but maybe I'm crazy) (or maybe it's the glasses):

This next photo is a picture of PAM and my step-dad Joe, I have no idea when it was taken, but I'm guessing PAM is in her mid-thirties here:

And this photo was taken a year or two ago, and since I promised I wouldn't out my mother's age, I'm not going to say how old she was in this photo, other than "this photo was taken a year or two ago":

I was looking for pictures to scan into this post and I came across this old scrapbook that my mom made for me when I was ten-ish and there's a Mother's Day Card (from 1985, when I was 8) that she wrote to me that I just had to scan and share on PAM's bday:

If you can't read the scan, it says: "1985...Dear Erik, I can remember when you were the age of the boy on this card (the outside of the card has a drawing of a mother holding a small boy), except you always seemed to have a smile on your face. It's so much fun to be your Mom, because you're so much fun to be with. When you grow up, I hope you will have a son as smart and handsome and loving as you are. My mother's day is happy because I have you. I love you! xxxxxxxxxx, Mom. P.S. (and this is my favorite part of the card--because it shows how much PAM gets me--how she really knew the way into 8-year-old Erik's heart) I even like your Garbage Pail Kids, especially Slimy Sara."

Okay, and while I was looking through this scrapbook, I found something that has nothing to do with PAM, but that made me laugh out loud and I just had to scan it in and share it, like, immediately. (Maybe I should be saving this until Christmas, but whatever.) It's a letter that I wrote to Santa Claus when I was 9-years-old. (The scan cut off some of the letter, so I will transcribe it below.)

The letter reads: "Dec. 13, 1986...Dear Santa Claus, Thank you for the things I got last year. (Notice how I don't mention any of these "things" specifically--probably because I can't remember exactly what I got, because I was a greedy little bastard who aspired to be like Alex P. Keaton, and Alex P. Keaton wasn't the type of dude who remembered what gifts Santa gave him last year, he was the type of dude who just wanted more gifts.) (Thankfully, I don't aspire to be like Alex P. Keaton anymore, though I would give my left foot for the chance to, like, have dinner with Michael J. Fox.) I think you look really good. (Way to butter him up, Erik!) (What I want to know is, when I say he's lookin' real good, am I talking about how good he looks in the picture I've drawn? Or did we go to the mall and he looked really good there?) Do you like my haircut? (Okay, when I originally transcribed this letter, I somehow missed this question, and then I had to come back and put it in because it's so funny. It's like, I gave him a compliment and now I'm fishing for one in return. I am fairly certain that the haircut I'm talking about was my killer flat top. Okay, now the letter is slowly going to shift towards what I'm really after.) It seems like Christmas was just yesterday. (Very good, Erik. Very casual.) How many helpers do you have? (That's good--engage him! Get him on your side!) What kind of cookies do you like? (Also good--you're showing interest in him right before going in for the kill--) Here are some things I would like for Christmas. (Smooth segue!) First series garbage pail kids. (I'm pretty sure I inserted a period there because that was really the only thing that I wanted. I mean, I would have been happy with any of the other things on my list, but I would have died and gone to heaven if I'd gotten the first series Garbage Pail Kids.) (I mean, my mother mentioned Garbage Pail Kids in her Mother's Day card to me--obviously I was obsessed.) (I didn't get the first series for Christmas that year, by the way; but I did eventually get them.) (I still have them.) (Preserved in plastic binders.) (Pristine.) Jams and Trolls. (Okay, I remember what Trolls were, but I have no idea what I was asking for when I said "Jams.") I like remote control cars too! (Such a lie.) (I never liked remote control cars.) (I was SO trying to be butch by asking for remote control cars.) (Actually, I didn't ask for remote control cars, I just mentioned that I "liked" them.) (I was REALLY trying to act straight for Santa.) (And that overcompensating exclamation point! I! Like! Remote! Control! Cars! Too!) (Poor little gay boy!) I also like 'Alf the doll' and magic tricks. (Oh my god, I was obsessed with Alf.) (I definitely got an Alf doll for Christmas that year.) (I went to sleep with that Alf doll in my arms until the freaking doll was ragged.) (I don't remember liking magic tricks.) Love, Erik Ross Patterson (I'm fairly certain I used my full name because I was aware that there were other "Erik Patterson"'s in the world and I didn't want him to mistakenly deliver my Garbage Pail Kids and Alf doll to the wrong "Erik Patterson.") P.S. "Merry Christmas." P.P.S. (and this is my favorite part of the letter) I would also like Fart Magazine Part II. Thanks."

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If you wanna comment on this entry, make it a birthday wish to PAM.

Happy birthday Mom!