the aging mind

A conversation between my mother and her aging mother (aka MorMor-that's Swedish for mother's mother):

Mom: Hi Mom, how are you?
Mormor: Oh. I'm alright. Did Gaith get his card yet? [My brother Gaith's birthday was last Thursday]
Mom: No, not yet.
Mormor: oh no! I hope it isn't lost in the mail, I sent it yesterday.
Mom: Well, you know it takes more than 2 days for it to get here.
Mormor: Oh alright. Now when Gaith gets it, tell him to open it carefully. There is a check in there and I don't want him to rip it.
Mom: I'll tell him.
MorMor: I'm about to send a birthday card to one of your daughters.
Mom: Well Mom, both of their birthdays are in the summer.
MorMor: No. One is coming up.
Mom: No Mom, Linnea was born in July and Rachel in August.
MorMor: No. It's in my birthday book that one is coming up. Hold on.
*goes to get birthday book*
MorMor: See, "Kristin Richardson, born March, 9, 1951"
Mom: *trying to hold in laughter, or tears* Mom, that's me.
MorMor: ...are you sure?
Mom: yes, that's me.
MorMor: Oh you're right. I didn't think you had a daughter that old.