Somebody get my mom a corndog.

Actually, she would probably be a lot happier with a zucchini on a stick. Nevertheless, it is her birthday, and a corndog is required.

This picture was taken back in her halcyon days, before my brother and I were around to torment her. When I call to wish her happy birthday today, I plan to find out what, exactly, she's hiding beneath that tarp.

Probably, it's filled with shoes.