This past weekend I turned 34. But in some ways I missed it. It didn't even seem like a birthday. There was a marble cake that my husband made. Thanks, Matt! Which I then had to piece together with frosting because he didn't grease the pan enough and I had to chisel them out. But it was still good.
But there was no party.
There were some presents. Two books (which I will post a review about later) and a traveling coffee mug.
Despite liking the presents I ended up sitting on the sofa in my crabby Jack Nicholson mood and thinking, "What if this is as good as it gets?" A coffee mug, books, and a lopsided cake.
And because I am a greedy turd, I then thought, "Jesus Christ, is this it?" Where are the balloons, the glitter, the crepe paper, the pony rides and animal balloons? Where is my damn crown and sceptre?
This is the bad part about getting older.
The good part? Well, I can go out and buy my own presents because Visa IS everywhere I want to be.
But anyway, I guess I have to get used to the idea that it's never going to really be about me anymore.
So what did I do for my magical birthday weekend?
Since my sister-in-law and her husband were on vacation, we spent Saturday evening and most of Sunday watching Thing 1 and Thing 2. And because Thing 1 is 3 years old, he talks. A lot. And asks questions. A lot. Which gives me the opportunity to fill his head with a ridiculous garbage heap of lies... excuse me, I mean, creative explanations.
Jack: Do you like my dinosaur?
Me: Actually, I think that's a dragon.
Jack looks confused.
Me: Dragons kind of look like dinosaurs, but they have wings and fly.
Jack: Dinosaurs fly, too.
Me: Some do, but dragons also breathe fire. I have one at my house.
Me: It lives in the basement.
Jack: I never saw it.
Me: Dragons are afraid of kids.
Me: They just are. Aren't you afraid of dragons?
Me: Well, they live in the basement and that's how you get heat in the winter. They breathe fire into the furnace.
Jack: Why do they breathe fire?
Me: Because they have horrible breath.
Me: Because they never brush their teeth.
Me (waving my clawed hands uselessly): Because their little front arms are too short and can't hold the toothbrush.
I realize I am confusing dragons with T-rexes, but oh well.
Jack: Well, you could brush their teeth for them.
Me: Maybe. But the toothbrush would probably melt.
Me: Well, because dragons breathe fire....
This kid is going to have his science teacher confused when I get done with him. I can't wait for the day when he asks me why the sky is blue.