Happy Birthday to Me

I love when single, childless 20-somethings ask, “What are you doing to celebrate your birthday?” I am going to have a pajama party! Actually, I’m just going to Walmart later. First, I am going to try and convince my 4-year-old to get ready for pre school. Then, I’m going to make breakfast and start laundry. Before mornings end my 2-year-old will have a temper tantrum because she wants to eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If I am lucky I will get to walk the dog in the snow (In April!) before he takes a crap on my kitchen floor. At some point my husband will realize the date and rush to the local supermarket to get a bouquet of flowers. Nothing says romance like a $7.99 sticker. I’m not complaining. This is my life. I will get birthday hugs from three amazing children. My middle child will create a homemade card that includes a portrait of me. I usually have one eye and look like I’m a piece of fried chicken away from having emergency crews cut a hole in the wall to get me out of the house. Hallmark ain’t got shit on this kid. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate my 37th birthday. Well, maybe a trip to the spa and throwing back a few margaritas would be fun. Since that won’t happen vacuuming is the next best thing, right?

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