So yesterday was my birthday, or as a friend put it, the “anniversary of my continued homeostasis upon this planet.”
We couldn’t let this go uncelebrated, so The Lovely Rhonda threw some invitations out and a few people dropped by.
I’m deeply uncomfortable allowing people to see how we normally live, i.e. like filth-beasts wallowing in our own swill, so I spent much of the day mucking out The Swamp. It wasn’t too bad, for us, and this mainly consisted of scraping a layer of toothpaste off the bathroom mirror and running the vacuum. Is there some special law of physics governing the spitting of toothpaste into sinks by children? Because despite vigorous Windexing of the bathroom mirror just yesterday, I woke this morning to find fresh gobs of chalky whiteness decorating its lower half. How do they even get that kind of trajectory going? I can barely get it to clear my chin.
It was the usual mayhem of barbecued meats and alcoholic beverages. TLR has found a decent mojito recipe. I asked her where she’d found it and she said “some men’s magazine website.” This is not even slightly surprising, although what is surprising is that she could navigate her way through all the photos of half-naked lingerie models to find the drinks recipes. I suspect she may have enjoyed this more than she would care to admit. At any rate they were very decent mojitos and I had a couple of them. This passes for debauchery on a grand scale, for me. Woo!
I’ve reached that age where when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I don’t have a ready answer. I have most things I could want, I wouldn’t want anyone to shell out for anything on the Too Expensive To Buy For Myself list, and mostly all I want is a good time with friends. Which I got! But you know people love you when they bring you trinkets and widgets and geegaws.
It was quite a haul, really. When the children get old enough to be taken shopping for you, you suddenly find yourself with a larger quantity of mysterious little packages than you have received in a while. There is usually a lot more tape involved in the gift-wrapping, too.
Some friends came and brought their girls who are close in age to TLR’s girls, and the youngest of these not only brought me gifts from the pile but assisted me in tearing the paper off and before I knew it had squirmed her way onto my lap and practically into my shirt. It was awfully charming.
TLR went a little nuts with the amusing trinkets. The pièce de résistance was a can of Unicorn meat.
Yes, you read correctly.
And, in keeping with my love of bacon, some Bacon-Scented Hand Sanitizer and Bacon-Flavored Lip Balm.
Our Good Friend Josh (GFJ) brought me a little token of his affection that I have struggled with since we got an XBox. “Struggled with” in the sense of “resisted buying for myself.” It is GFJ that we can thank for my sudden, comprehensive disappearance from society for the next six months, for he brought me —
I’m not sure TLR is on speaking terms with GFJ now.
And just when I thought the night could not get any better, and was about to blissfully retire with dreams of bacon-scented dragon-riding Unicorn-munching adventure, my cousin Heidi showed up with a BOX OF AWESOME.
Heidi’s godmother collected something, you see, and when she passed away these somethings passed to Heidi. And Heidi has bestowed them on me.
I present, without further ado: