A Very Merry Post Birthday to Me!
Yesterday was my birthday. I woke up to Hubby handing me this -
A computer paper Happy Birthday note "signed" by some of the animals and the teenager (curiously, all in Hubby's handwriting), a "recycled" anniversary card in which he'd whited out the inside and turned it into a birthday card from him to me, and last but clearly not least, a bouquet of dead flowers from the garden with a ribbon made out of a bit of plastic bag.
I stared at it.
Hubby: I figured since I got you such good presents for Christmas I didn't have to get you anything big for your birthday.
I stared at it some more.
Hubby: I, uhm, I didn't want to risk waking you up by getting dressed and going out for real flowers this morning.
Hubby: Well, obviously we'll be celebrating your birthday all week. There will be more presents later.
Me: Can you bring me my camera please? Because you know I'm gonna have to blog this.
And before you can get all uppity on my behalf, I found it very amusing. Hubby is usually OVERLY generous and showers me with candy, cards, flowers, gifts and dinners out - doesn't miss a thing. And we did go out to both a nice dinner with William and a later coffee and dessert just the two of us the night before, as Hubby had to work the night of my birthday.
After the camera I got this birthday scoop of ice cream (soy cream actually). Hubby dragged the Teen in to help sing Happy Birthday, which Teen did through a mouthful of nachos.
Maggie didn't understand why I didn't share the ice cream - sorry kiddo, it was chocolate.
I didn't actually get any "presents" for my birthday, although in a way that was nice. (Rumor has it, however, that there are several things winging their way through the mail even as I type this) More important than gifts, I got phone call birthday greetings from all my kids, siblings (no, wait, one sister missed. But since I'm awful at remembering this sort of thing in return, no harm no foul), mom, best friend, and phone texts from Hubby from work.
I told Hubby that what I really wanted for my birthday gift was nothing, so that in the near future I could buy a bunch of books I've been waiting to come out in paperback. And there will be many vendors at the upcoming Winter Faery Balls with all sorts of tempting art and lovelies. I'm sure I can find a favorite or two to justify as a "late birthday gift".
I also got a candle topped cupcake and a rousing round of Happy Birthday to You from my friends who own the local Chinese restaurant. William babysat the puppies so I could take a long walk and eat out and finish my book club reading.
Mostly I just allowed myself to do nothing all day, read in daylight hours, leave the dishes in the sink, and watch silly television. I finished my book club of the month book and then lapped up all but the last ten pages of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which is a good way to start out as I've decided to turn six this year. (Oh hey, I should reread Milne's When I was Six!)
Women my age often decide to turn 29. Not me. I figure if I'm gonna pick a fun year, six seems like a good choice. It's old enough to read (at least I was reading by then), have some freedom to wander without parental supervision (at least in my childhood), but still full of lots of dress up and fantasy play. I intend to spend the year rediscovering the joy of building forts, wearing whatever I fancy in whatever quirky combinations I desire, making dandelion chains, talking to my cats, dancing, playing with my food, listening to the faeries whispering their secret lore, climbing trees, giggling with my friends, drawing colorful pictures, wishing on stars, and.... You know, doing all the important things in life.