I had a birthday recently.
Hurray for cake! It is always a good day when there’s cake.
That was a statement, not an opinion poll. Please avert your eyes if you are cake-averse.
Also, I’m not sure we can continue to be friends.
It was a fairly garden-variety birthday. That is, not one of the “big” ones with zeros in them. More like halfway to one of the big ones.
The Ministry of Transportation wrote to tell me that I owed them money for my license plate renewal.
And my mother called to tell me that she felt old on account of my birthday.
Even though it wasn’t one of the big ones.
And, my friend, Freckles, (who is weeks away from halfway to her next big one) said Happy Birthday by asking me if I realized that it had been 30 years since we had first met.
This was somewhat distressing to me because I distinctly remember having pimples that day.
So then, I felt old on account of my birthday.
Not that old is bad. I am a fairy godmother-in-training and I can’t wait to have silvery hair. I think it’s magical and more conducive to spontaneous tra-la-la.
Maybe by the time I get to the next big birthday, my hair will be more magical (and less uncooperative personality disorder).
And, you wouldn’t know that I’m barely half way to one of the big ones by the way Practical Man tries to wind me up while we’re in stores. He thinks putting the SILVER (geriatric) Vitamins For Women in our cart is hilarious.
I can’t believe we’re spending hard-earned dosh on vitamins in the first place–let alone gender-focused ones that target silly things like bone strength instead of helping me hide at least one of my chins.
Why not spend that money on cake, I ask?
Okay, so maybe that’s why.
Anyway, I like to retaliate for his vitamin gag by deviating from the approved grocery list.
I throw things in the cart when he isn’t paying attention.
Reckless things that aren’t on sale or for which WE DO NOT POSSESS A COUPON!
All is fair in love and shopping with your sweetie, especially when it’s your birthday.
Even if it’s not a big one.