So, I’m not sure if you know this, but Wednesday was my birthday. I don’t know how you would have realized that, since I hardly even mentioned it at all on any format, including my own blog, other people’s blogs or even on Facebook. I mean, really. It was practically a secret.
As with all of my birthdays, I was a bit trepidatious as to how the day would go. Would there be slapping? Would there be forgetfulness? Would there be tragedy? None of these are unprecedented events for that most holy of days . . . the day of my birth.
The day started for me before sunrise. A most unwelcome turn of events, but not at all unexpected. However, the reality was much harsher than the theory of “having to go to work on my birthday.” When the alarm sounded, there commenced numerous slaps of the snooze button before the battle going on in my head between GOOD (Get UP! You have to go to work!) and BAD (It’s my birthday! I want to sleep . . . and this bed is so warm and cozy!) was concluded decisively by my full bladder. So, once I was out of bed and pee-free, I figured since I was vertical, I might as well get on with it and get ready for work. Screw you, bladder. You vile betrayer!
Once I was marginally functional (showered, spackled, dressed) I proceeded downstairs to greet the onslaught of family members (sans my travelling hubby) for birthday wishes. I was greeted by this:
Hand-made banners. Yes, that’s plural, there were three (third one not pictured in my super messy kitchen). To add to that, my boys also assaulted me with hand-made cards:
Sticker card courtesy of 4.
Card by 7.
Please note that I am “the best mom ever xoxoxo best mom.” He says it twice, in two different colors, so it must be accurate. Everyone else can just put their batons down now. Sorry.
After the cards and hugs were all given out, it was time for me to go to work. Horribly-made coffee in hand (I mentioned the hubs being out of town, yes?), I was off to see what this day of days had in store for yours truly.
Apparently, the immediate answer to that was . . . traffic. Lots and lots of traffic. Oh joy. Wait, why am I not still in bed? Oh yeah, work. Goodie.
Finally arriving at work, I discovered a few things in my office. First, a gift from my secretary (Costa Rican coffee and a brownie). I believe I have extolled her amazing qualities previously ad nauseum, so I will refrain from rehashing, but she is seriously the best. Then when I booted up my computer, there was an unexpected birthday wish:
Aww, Google. How sweet of you to remember! I mean, I don’t even know how you knew it was my birthday, but it was a lovely surprise upon opening up Explorer on my computer. A little Big Brotherish, but I’ll take birthday greetings where I can get them.
And then I happened to notice something a bit odd on my desk. A manila file folder with a sticky note on top directing one of my colleagues to “sign and then give to Misty.” When I opened the file folder to see what was inside, I realized that although the signer had in fact followed the note writer’s directions explicitly, she did not exactly follow along with the intent in which the note was meant.
Not quite what was intended, methinks.
Another interesting thing during that day was that not one person at my office wished me a happy birthday. Now, don’t get me wrong . . . I received tons of birthday wishes on both my personal Facebook account and my blog Facebook account, along with many texts from friends (including a couple of colleagues not at work that day). So, I’m not trying to be all “woe is me, nobody remembered.” And I mean seriously, how can you forget when Mark Zuckerberg so helpfully assists you with a reminder right there on your FB page? But during the entire day of being in the office, not one actual person told me “Happy Birthday.” I found it odd. Especially since most of them had just signed a card for me, so it’s not like it was a big secret.
Once I was finally released from
captivity work, (and when I say “released,” I mean I ran out of there an hour early . . . it’s mah birfday!!), I headed home to what I expected to be a low key evening of celebration. I expected carry out for dinner (sushi) and a pie for dessert, per my request. I also assumed there would be presents. It’s how my family rolls.
I was greeted upon my arrival with both balloons and yelling by my children that I was home too early and that they were still working on a surprise! Fine by me. I took myself up to my room, changed out of my work clothes, and vegged in front of the TV for about an hour. Ahhh, now this is my kind of birthday!
Tinkerbell and Ariel . . . because I’m a GIRL.
Once my family deemed themselves prepared for the evening’s revelry, I was allowed to descend into the
pits of despair den of iniquity celabratory spaces of my home. This was also when I discovered that not only would I be receiving presents from my family, but TWO of my blogging friends had sent packages my way, which had arrived appropriately and timely on my special day. The first was from Rachel, of bloggy brunch fame, who ordered a book for me that we had discussed this past Saturday. It is her favorite book, and when she discovered I had not yet read it, she decided to right that wrong by sending the book to me. What an amazingly sweet gesture. Thanks so much, Rache!!
The next surprise was a gift from my bloggy buddy, Jules. She and I share an unholy love for all things bacon. She translated this bond that we have into a gift of a book celebrating this unholy love.
When I unwrapped this gift, I laughed so hard. My family wanted to know
what was wrong with me what was so funny, and all I could do was hold up the book. Seriously, though, this is one of the best things I have ever received. Jules, it’s like you just know me or something. Thank you so much for your gift, your hilarity, and your friendship. They all mean the world to me!
Ok, on to the gifts from my family. First . . . another book. Truly, a perfect companion to the one above.
It’s like he KNOWS me or something.
And now we have . . . joke giftapalooza:
Please note that all of the above were handed to me, lovingly, by my small boys, and I unknowingly started opening them in front of said children without nary a warning from the hubs. Bad form, hubs. You stay classy, San Diego.
My oldest son then gave me a special gift which he assured me he had not only picked out himself, but also helped pay for. It is some serious bling bling, y’all.
The finest CZ allowed by law.
On to cake! Well, cakes and pie. When the hubs asked me earlier in the week what kind of cake I wanted, I threw him a curveball by saying, “I don’t want cake at all. I want pie. Key Lime Pie to be exact.” But since no one has ever heard of a birthday pie, the hubs decided to get something for everyone.
That’s right . . . two different cakes AND a key lime pie. Booyah!! Plus, the hubs tried to burn the house down . . .
Anytime we seriously consider getting the fire department involved in our celebration is a good time, no doubt.
And thus ends my thrilling tale of a birthday celebration that will go down in the history books as, “at least nobody died” and “could have been much worse.” For my birthday . . . I call that a win! So now, I am in Atlantic City, hopefully resting and relaxing, sans my lovely and adorable spawn. What better way could there be to end a birthday week? Except for that jackpot I’m hoping to win . . . none, I say!