40 Years of Michael

I haven’t acknowledged the recent holiday celebrations we’ve had and I’m feeling like a jerk about it.  My dear husband turned 40 in April and I didn’t share that news.  40!  (Maybe I’m not actually a jerk and I just didn’t want people to know I’m married to Old Man River.)  I feel okay about my slight since it was also Mother’s Day and I didn’t say boo. 

I reserve all of my booing for Halloween.

And for most of Myke’s jokes.

I felt perfectly fine about Michael turning 40.  He, however, did not feel fine at all.  I heard a lot of whining in the weeks leading up to his birf-day.  He moaned things like, “My life is over, I haven't accomplished anything, my hair is gray, my belly is a voluptuous orb, I don't own a Tesla automobile, and I’m practically dead.”  I tried to cheer him up by pointing out all of the good things about his life.  For instance, he has a beautiful daughter, he’s got a good job, he’s healthy, and he’s married to me; an awesome woman who is moderately overweight with facial hair and acne. 

Jackpot! 

He wasn’t consoled.

It actually kind of turned out to be a weird birthday.  I had big plans for a wonderful celebration but nothing quite turned out like I had hoped.  Maybe turning 40 really does suck.  I started the day by making biscuits and gravy for breakfast, which were salt licks.  I failed to consider the saltiness of the sausage and salted the crap out of that gravy by the end.  It really was inedible.  Sorry about that.  Lesson learned.  Then we went bowling.  It wasn’t really bowling but more of a chase-Eva-around-the-bowling-alley-while-she-touches-everything-and-walks-in-front-of-other-bowlers.  It was exhausting.  Plus, I told the guy I wear a size 10 shoe and he interpreted it as a size 27.  I was clomping around like a clown but I was too lazy to walk all the way to the counter for a smaller size.

 

We had lunch and planted flowers in the front yard.  It seems like a strange thing to do for a birthday party but that’s what we did.  Eva wandered around with my phone taking pictures.  She would even preface each picture with, “Smile Daddy!” 

After horticulture hour, we picked up a babysitter for Eva while Myke and I had a massage.  That part was actually nice. I sprang for the 90 minute massage but the time flew by much too quickly.  Is there really any amount of time that feels satisfying when it comes to a massage?  I think not.

We then we came home for a family campout.  Mama don’t camp outside so I camped out in the house in my bed while Myke and Eva camped out in the backyard.  We had a fire and S’mores instead of cake and I thought it was divine.  Eva was having the time of her life.  She was so excited about everything that was happening. 

          

Unfortunately, Myke did not share her enthusiasm.  He told me the next day that he wished we would have had cake and ice cream instead of S’mores.  He also said he wished he hadn’t slept outside on a cot.  And that he wasn’t 40.

I bought him ice cream a day later and we celebrated turning 40 the way God intended – by each of us devouring an entire carton of Ben & Jerry’s.

40 isn’t so bad after all.

Happy Birthday, Michael!