A break in the holiday-season-imposed radio silence to wish happy birthdays to a whole mess of holiday-clearance-sale birthday girls: my twin nieces, who are one year old, oh my goodness, my good friend and co-conspirator Martha, whose age is code-word classified, and my archnemesis Isabel, who is, if I recall correctly, now nine.
It has been suggested to me that a small girl in the Boston suburbs is setting the bar low in terms of archnemeses, but I think the advantage is all on her end.