There once was a time when I measured the awesomeness of a birthday by the gifts I recieved. This really shouldnt come as a surprise, as I might have mentioned I was shallow a time or three. Tomorrow I turn 32 and aside from a few gray hairs I'm holding up okay. Much to my dismay, though Chris is older than me, he lacks the silver threads in his locks and when caught off guard has quite a boyish appearance, making him look much younger than myself. That's never a happy circumstance and I make sure to harp on it when the opportunity presents itself.
So this year I've decided to regress a bit and have come up with a birthday checklist for the gifts I've recieved. This is just so I can hand out report cards and let people know when they're failing.
My mother in law gifted me with this. More junk to collect dust, however she gets points for sentimentality. She also took us out to eat at Steak and Shake. In case you've never heard of the gloriousness that is Steak and Shake, let me be the first to educate you. In Florida, the people down here suffer from a serious lack of taste buds. Floridians also seriously lack in a lot of departments, but the food bit depresses me the most. It is nearly impossible to find a decent hole in the wall restaurant, which is the sort I enjoy. Steak and Shake, while a chain prevalent down here, is about the closest thing I can find to a decent greasy spoon. My favorite dish happens to be their Chili, with their cheese fries coming in a close second. We quite enjoyed the chance to get out of the house and I was happy to eat someone else's cooking for a change. Mother in law gets a B+.
Christopher purchased a mobile phone for himself last month. I had an iPhone previously but disconnected service to it because the monthly bill was quite high. Once you have a cell phone that's smarter than you, it's really really hard to switch back. "What do you mean it only calls people?" Anyone who has a smart phone knows what I'm talking about, there. So for my birthday he purchased a similar phone for me. Lord help you all, not only am I on the interwebs, but I'm mobile. And, being the sweetest man I know, he conned a co-worker into baking me a cake for tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise but as my sister and I were digging through our combined kitchens trying to come up with enough ingredients to make a box cake, Chris let the cat out of the bag early. Since I'm pretty sure Chris got me the phone as an amends for not talking to me about getting his before he purchased it, and as the cake is not in my grubby little paws yet, I'm going to have to wait to grade him. Depending on how good this cake may be, I'm wavering somewhere around an A-.
Lastly, we have my mother who is currently in the lead. She joined us today for a trek through Eureka Springs, a location that I previously blogged about here. She was snapping off the camera like a demented papparazzi, uncaring of the odd looks being tossed our way. Despite Chris's permanent curmugeonly expression, she managed to get these gems, for which she has my undying gratitude.
That's right, he's smiling. And happy. And lovey dovey, and all of that crap. So for that, my mom gets an A++. Chris also gets points there, too, as he did not balk in the least at being asked to shave and wear a nice (but slightly rumpled) shirt.
We'll throw this one in there, lest I ruin his street cred with any co-workers that read this thing. I never saw the movie but the title, "Dont't Mess With the Zohan" comes to mind. Substitute "Papa" for "Zohan" and there you have it.
I might have to adjust my mom's grade, though, if one looks back over the years at birthdays past. It all started the year I turned 7. I hate coconut. Well, let me rephrase that. I love fresh coconut, especially the milk. I do not like the coconut flakes. I feel like it would be more edifying to eat the plastic bag they come in. So for my 7th birthday, knowing I hate coconut, my mother made me a coconut cake. She dressed it up real pretty, making a bunny rabbit out of 2 cake rounds and the coconut flakes were supposed to be its fur. It kind of went downhill from there but as we've gone this far into absolute silliness let's just add the year I didn't get the pony I wanted. I'm pretty sure that's where all of my angst came from. Then there was the year where I really really wanted a pair of Girbaud jeans. Luckily for us, we were poor so I dont have any of those embarrassing MC Hammer pants pictures that ear mark my generation. I could go into more detail but as my mother does have pictures of me wearing an NKOTB nightgown with curlers in my hair, I might already have said too much.
For the rest of you all, you have until midnight tomorrow night to give me an awesome birthday gift. If not I will be forced to give you a big, fat F and that will make me sad somewhere. I think.
So this year I've decided to regress a bit and have come up with a birthday checklist for the gifts I've recieved. This is just so I can hand out report cards and let people know when they're failing.
My mother in law gifted me with this. More junk to collect dust, however she gets points for sentimentality. She also took us out to eat at Steak and Shake. In case you've never heard of the gloriousness that is Steak and Shake, let me be the first to educate you. In Florida, the people down here suffer from a serious lack of taste buds. Floridians also seriously lack in a lot of departments, but the food bit depresses me the most. It is nearly impossible to find a decent hole in the wall restaurant, which is the sort I enjoy. Steak and Shake, while a chain prevalent down here, is about the closest thing I can find to a decent greasy spoon. My favorite dish happens to be their Chili, with their cheese fries coming in a close second. We quite enjoyed the chance to get out of the house and I was happy to eat someone else's cooking for a change. Mother in law gets a B+.
Christopher purchased a mobile phone for himself last month. I had an iPhone previously but disconnected service to it because the monthly bill was quite high. Once you have a cell phone that's smarter than you, it's really really hard to switch back. "What do you mean it only calls people?" Anyone who has a smart phone knows what I'm talking about, there. So for my birthday he purchased a similar phone for me. Lord help you all, not only am I on the interwebs, but I'm mobile. And, being the sweetest man I know, he conned a co-worker into baking me a cake for tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise but as my sister and I were digging through our combined kitchens trying to come up with enough ingredients to make a box cake, Chris let the cat out of the bag early. Since I'm pretty sure Chris got me the phone as an amends for not talking to me about getting his before he purchased it, and as the cake is not in my grubby little paws yet, I'm going to have to wait to grade him. Depending on how good this cake may be, I'm wavering somewhere around an A-.
Lastly, we have my mother who is currently in the lead. She joined us today for a trek through Eureka Springs, a location that I previously blogged about here. She was snapping off the camera like a demented papparazzi, uncaring of the odd looks being tossed our way. Despite Chris's permanent curmugeonly expression, she managed to get these gems, for which she has my undying gratitude.
That's right, he's smiling. And happy. And lovey dovey, and all of that crap. So for that, my mom gets an A++. Chris also gets points there, too, as he did not balk in the least at being asked to shave and wear a nice (but slightly rumpled) shirt.
We'll throw this one in there, lest I ruin his street cred with any co-workers that read this thing. I never saw the movie but the title, "Dont't Mess With the Zohan" comes to mind. Substitute "Papa" for "Zohan" and there you have it.
I might have to adjust my mom's grade, though, if one looks back over the years at birthdays past. It all started the year I turned 7. I hate coconut. Well, let me rephrase that. I love fresh coconut, especially the milk. I do not like the coconut flakes. I feel like it would be more edifying to eat the plastic bag they come in. So for my 7th birthday, knowing I hate coconut, my mother made me a coconut cake. She dressed it up real pretty, making a bunny rabbit out of 2 cake rounds and the coconut flakes were supposed to be its fur. It kind of went downhill from there but as we've gone this far into absolute silliness let's just add the year I didn't get the pony I wanted. I'm pretty sure that's where all of my angst came from. Then there was the year where I really really wanted a pair of Girbaud jeans. Luckily for us, we were poor so I dont have any of those embarrassing MC Hammer pants pictures that ear mark my generation. I could go into more detail but as my mother does have pictures of me wearing an NKOTB nightgown with curlers in my hair, I might already have said too much.
For the rest of you all, you have until midnight tomorrow night to give me an awesome birthday gift. If not I will be forced to give you a big, fat F and that will make me sad somewhere. I think.
**The above is complete silliness on my part. I'm thankful for all the gifts I've recieved, be they items or well wishes.
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