“Your birthday is on Monday?” Maga said.
“It is,” I said.
“You’ll be 35? 36?”
“37.”
“You’re getting up there.”
“Ha. I suppose I am.”
“It’s on Monday? A week from yesterday?”
“Yes. It’s the day before your and Jobo’s anniversary. And Sister J’s is the day after.”
“Really?” Maga trailed off. “I guess I forgot that.”
“You knew it. You just don’t remember at the moment.”
“Let me get my calendar. Any other celebrations this month?”
“Indeed. Brother G and Sister E.”
“Your mother had four children in January?!?” The incredulity in her voice was hilarious and heartbreaking. “My gosh. I didn’t realize that. Or didn’t remember that. That is remarkable.”
“She’s quite formidable.”
“She spent a lot of time pregnant during the holidays.”
“It must have been difficult. Well, except for me. She wasn’t that far along with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was due in April.”
“You were a preemie?”
“Yup. I was the teeny one. Still am, actually.”
“You’re a good size. A little bit of alright.”
After a morning that involved way more adult-ing than I ever anticipated, I cradled this night time praise close.
Abigail Mumford 
“A little bit of alright.” Maga knows.
I just love the way she phrases things!