My hubby is getting old! I, of course, am not. He was so excited about his day that when I wished him Happy Birthday this morning he said, "Oh, right. Thanks." You see, Jason doesn't like his birthday. It's not the getting old part he dislikes. It's Dick Clark and Ryan Seacrest and the streamers and the goofy glasses and all the crazies in Times Square wishing away his day that he doesn't like. He swears that his entire life everyone reserved one of his Christmas presents to give him on his birthday. If he could have held out one more day he would have been a New Year's baby like my Great Grandma. Perhaps he could have been the first baby of 1982, but what's the fun in that?
To my Tax Baby Husband: Rejoice! I love you and you've made it to another year! Don't worry, we won't be watching Dick Clark tonight or that silly ball drop. We'll most likely be rocking the baby to sleep or sleeping ourselves. Oh the joys of parenthood! I didn't reserve a Christmas present for you this year. Your present didn't go on sale until after Christmas! I'm sorry, but I had to wrap your present in Christmas paper. The Happy Birthday paper never goes on sale at Target and, well, you've never wrapped my presents in Happy Birthday paper either so we don't have any! Two years ago, if I remember correctly, I got something for Moab for my birthday. Please forgive me if I don't bake you a cake today like in years past. Our baby is teething and needs my constant attention. I do have some good news, though. Jared will always be older than you (I'm sorry Jared, but that always cheers him up!) and I don't make pork and sauerkraut for New Year's Day like my mother and all other good German women. We can just eat pizza and watch Purdue Basketball. It's a charmed life! Happy Birthday my Love!
No comments:
Post a Comment