I’ve had a very up-and-down relationship with this one, and unfortunately in the end it couldn’t stick the landing. I thought I was going to like the texture of the dress, but upon further review it just seems designed to look like it was balled up in the bottom of her suitcase for two weeks. And the hallelujahs I offer to the lipstick and clutch are somewhat negated by the fact that her torso is two sparkly eyes and a unibrow. It’s like she’s wearing the formalwear interpretation of Oscar the Grouch’s facial expression. Not what I expected to see in a lady’s midsection on my mother’s birthday, although we DID always enjoy Oscar on Sesame Street, so at least there’s that. Happy birthday, Mom! You’re better than a million trillion Muppets.
And this concludes an extremely unorthodox greeting card. Call me, Hallmark. I’ll sell you the rights.