This is sure to be a birthday remembered for many years, maybe not for all the right reasons, but memorable nonetheless. Here's the rundown.
I was under the impression that on Thursday night, my friend Monica was going to babysit our kids while Baxter and I were going to have dinner out. So, around 5:00 I start getting all showered and dressed, and get ready for a night out, (I'm supposed to be ready by 6:30) and when the time rolls around for us to go, my mom and dad show up. With them, they have a giant cake and a big container of ice cream. I had known something fishy was going on, so this cinched the deal. After they arrive, Baxter informs me that no, we are not going out to dinner, but a surprise party for me. He has never in the history of our marriage surprised me. Somehow, I always find out. Anyway, Monica does show up, along with about 8 to 10 more of our friends . I stood there awkwardly as my friends stood around my third birthday cake of the week singing happy birthday ( is it just me, or is it totally uncomfortable to be in the middle of that particular circle as an adult?) I knew I would remember this birthday for a while.
But wait, that's not all, after all but one of our friends had left, Baxter slumped on the couch. He had a fever and other things* going on with him. He had worked so hard to keep this a surprise, and now it was over, and he allowed himself to finally be sick. He was so sick in fact, that he stayed home from work the next day. Yes, Typhoid Mary got to him. (see previous post). So, he fell asleep on the couch with his fever, and I made myself some canned soup (I needed actual dinner since we didn't go out). The unfortunate end to a wonderfully thoughtful evening.
My sister and her husband arrived on Friday evening and we had a really good low-key weekend. We got to have some good talks (wink, wink, Kitty), and just enjoy being stupid together again. It all wrapped up with my mommy's birthday on Saturday and some steak dinners (those steaks had to be 4 lbs. a piece). Good Times, good eatin'.
So, all in all, I guess I can move on from my birthday week a year older, and with a new appreciation for my hubby, (who really gets annoyed when I call him hubbs) and a memory to last me until my next Birthday week.
*other things-denotes running to and from the bathroom with excited utterances.
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