Happy Deathday, Daughter

My oldest shambler just celebrated her sixteenth deathday, and I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears. (I mean, even more than usual.) Not only because it’s slowly dawning on me that she’s not a fresh corpse anymore, but every year it gets harder and harder to shop for her.
She doesn’t care about fancy clothes or jewelry. Few life-challenged do. Sparklies draw attention and make it hard to catch a bite to eat. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter what she wears; pale, moss-green skin can wear anything. I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother, either. The girl turns heads wherever we go.

She’s not one for gadgets, either. She likes getting new games and music, but her mild enthusiasm doesn’t justify the ridiculous cost. The life-challenged are masters at conservation. We believe in using something until it completely falls apart. Never once has my daughter complained about being stuck with last year’s phone, last month’s MP3 player, or last week’s brain casserole. She makes a mother proud.

Eventually I did come up with a gift, one she loved on the spot: art supplies. The girl is crazy about art. She draws and paints the most spectacular pictures, and she is constantly running out of certain colors. Against all odds I found an art supply store that carries Gangrene Green, Dried-Blood Brown, and Fresh Brains Grey. I cleared out their inventory. As an added surprise I left a couple of dead rats on her pillow. I can’t wait to see what she makes with them.
Her party is much easier to plan. She’s not a social butterfly, so her parties generally consist of a friend or two, a box of popcorn, and a stack of horror movies. She likes the ones with upbeat endings, like The Cabin in the Woods.

This year I thought I would do something special for her, something that hopefully will mean more than wrapped presents and fun movies. We signed her up for a zombie run. It’s a good way for her to practice her hunting skills independently, and with all the running and screaming going on around her, it’s the perfect setting for some real-life practice. I just hope she remembers to get her prey out of sight before she starts eating. There’s only so much you can blame on stage makeup.
Happy deathday, baby girl!

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