Birthday Post

Years ago I started a birthday tradition for myself.  I think it was the year I gave up on my idiot exhusband and bought myself presents and made myself a cake and sang to myself as I ate it alone.

Since then I have found great enjoyment in doing the most pathetic things I can think of on my birthday.

This morning started at 3 a.m. when I found my 16 year old sleeping on the couch with the television on some infomercial.

You’d better get to bed before your mother finds you here, I leaned over her and said softly.

I was sleeping here so I’d be the first one to wish you happy birthday, she said with great cheer as she shuffled off to bed.

Then at 8 a.m. I warmed myself a cup of left over coffee and sat my butt in front of the television to watch Justin Bieber on the Today show.  Just as he started his first song I felt the need to use the bathroom and although I vowed that I could hold on until his song was over, I ended up running to the bathroom and coming out just in time for it to end.

Someone in the audience held a sign that said It’s my birthday! and I absolutely love them for being my twin and for being as obsessed with Justin Bieber as I am.  Maybe it was Miley Cyrus because she’s my twin too!

I was going to head up to our drop in day center at work to have a Thanksgiving meal with the clients and staff, but ended up last minute shopping at Walmart and still somehow forgot minimarshmallows and orange juice so I have to go out again.

Then Haley and I made pie, but even though I said clearly on the shopping list when I went with Nick:  Chocolate pudding, NOT INSTANT.  He still got instant.  And graham cracker crusts.  I called him to find out where he’d hidden the pie crusts (in the garage in the supercooler, duh) but decided not to complain about instant pudding until he got home for lunch, but he didn’t show up.

Meanwhile the youngest came home 3 hours earlier than planned and the middle one said she’s making up missing gym days, although it’s the half day before Thanksgiving break so I sincerely doubt she’s actually there, but is instead at City Park with the druggies.  I will be stalking her in half an hour when I run to the store again.

Oh, and I forgot about the rabbit.  The cute little bunny who pooped once in every 5 square foot area of the carpet and then peed on the couch.  I was on my hands and knees chasing her under the kitchen table.

My birthday is about halfway over.  My gut hangs over my jeans.  I used the wind as a hair dryer.  And I can’t even get drunk.

 

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