My favorite husband turned 41 on Sunday. Gasp! The ol’boy still melts my heart though. I suppose I’ll keep him around a few more years.
I was sick with a head cold on his birthday so it wasn’t the exciting bash that I had initially planned but it turned out to be a nice day anyway. I bought him a couple of presents:
A replacement CD of his favorite Marc Cohn album after I accidentally sent his other one to live with my sissy in Idaho.
And a nerd toy…some robot ball called a Sphero. Look at his excitement! It’s like he’s turning 12 and not 41.
Let’s not forget that it’s not Michael’s birthday unless there’s chocolate cream pie.
He opted to light a fire in the backyard and have tin foil dinners for his birthday meal. The fire was fun for approximately two minutes. The wind kept shifting direction and blowing smoke in our faces regardless of where we sat. We roasted a couple of mallows and waited patiently for the dinners to be done, then we bolted back inside to escape the billowing assaults on our eyes. Two days later and my hair still smells like a campfire. (Maybe I should try washing it.)
The idea was romantic, the reality was tortuous. But it was still a nice day.
Happy Birthday, Mykey!
No comments:
Post a Comment