Monday, August 22, 2011

Happy Birthday, Sorry That I Ruined It.

Yousuf turned thirty three on Saturday. Normally, this would be an occasion for much fanfare and celebration, but due to me messing things up was something else altogether. The reason for all the insanity actually can be traced back to one precise moment. Which is of course, the day that I was born.

The day that I was born occurred approximately six weeks before the day that Yousuf was born, in the same year of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Really OLD.

And this, my friends, is proving to be a big problem.

To be honest, the birthday insanity actually starts before my birthday in July, which I have begun to look less and less forward to as I go hurtling into a new year before my husband. It's like I'm strapped into the very first car of a death-defying roller coaster and I'm all, "WHHEEE!!! GRAY HAIR AND CROW'S FEET HERE I COME YEAAAAAHHH!!!"

It's even worse afterward, because for the six weeks following my birthday I am a grumpy old hag. Yousuf, lovely man that he is, rarely ever teases me about the age difference between us, but if he even so much as looks at me sideways during that time, then I am all up in his bizness like a crazy person suffering from dementia.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Is it because I look six weeks older than you? Is it really that noticeable? Do you see any white hairs anywhere? Did you know that I woke up this morning and my hip hurt? It's because I'm ANCIENT. Do you think I'll start forgetting my name? My children's names? Your name? Will I forget that this conversation ever took place? Is it even taking place NOW? MAKE IT STOOOOOOOP!"

And so on and so forth. For SIX WEEKS. I can't stop myself from doing it, even if I tell myself to knock it off. It's like my age is catching up to me and making me speak without thinking, which I'm told is a right reserved for the very aged. And the incredibly idiotic.

So Yousuf's birthday is supposed to be this great celebration of him turning the same age as me FINALLY. It's the end of six weeks of self-imposed torture, and like everything else sentimental in our married life, I never cease to mess it right up.

Like that time I got a sinus infection and fell asleep for twelve hours straight ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT.

Yep, true story. I rock.

On Dear Husband's birthday this weekend, I promised myself I would do better, because I knew that Yousuf deserved better than a lame last-minute homemade card. But of course things turned out not according to plan. Again.

First of all, we wanted to get him something really special for dinner, and he said that he wanted Thai food. And I was all set to go and get it, even though I have never been to that particular restaurant before. But that wasn't going to be a problem because that's what GPS systems are for, right? Except then Yousuf said that I would probably miss it even with the GPS because it was hidden, and so he said that he would be happy to get it himself.

So I sent my husband to get his own birthday meal.

While he was gone, we set the table and got everything juuuuussst right. He and his father (who paid for the meal so it wasn't like I messed up completely) came back with the food and it was so good. Perfect even. Until after dinner, when I was supposed to get the cake out so that we could sing Happy Birthday to him.

Which is when I remembered that Yousuf wanted an ice cream cake, which I had bought earlier and which I had forgotten to take out of the deep freezer to thaw.


So we had no birthday cake to sing happy birthday with, and I felt like a total putz. But then Yousuf remembered that we had donuts and we could just stick some candles in the donut and call it a day. Except that the day before, his father and I planned to play a harmless birthday prank on Yousuf and we hid all of the donuts except for a tiny piece of his favorite flavored one so when he went to get the donut to stick some candles in, all that was left was that one itty-bitty bite-sized chunk of donut.

And he was kind of pissed at all of us - well at me, mostly - because I basically messed everything up, without intending to...but still.

(I totally blamed my advanced age.)

It would have been kind of funny, if it wasn't so pathetic.

Oh, and the present! So when it was my birthday in July I really wanted this one flavor of lip balm that isn't even manufactured anymore (Lip Smackers Mango). Correction: it IS manufactured, but you can only get it in a package with two other flavors that make me yak. Sorry, I can't help it - they just do. Old people are sensitive to some flavors, you know. What's that you say? That's totally unequivocally untrue? I'm sorry, I can't hear you. I must be going deaf as well.

So you wanna know what Yousuf ended up doing for my birthday? He found a dude on ebay and bought his entire stock of Lip Smackers Mango chapstick.

And all I got for him this weekend was a bike helmet.

Which is what he wanted, but I could have thought outside the box to get him something more...fantastic, maybe? But, no. I didn't.

But look! The bike helmet is really cute, especially when our children steal it from him and don't even let him try on his own birthday present.  

And remember how I promised to NOT make him a lame last-minute homemade card?

Yeah, I totally forgot about that too.

It's because I'M OLD, Guys. Like so old that I can't even remember to defrost a birthday cake old.

Happy Birthday to the best father, the best husband, and my best friend. Sorry that I ruined your special day, but maybe I can make it up to you later tonight, after the kids are in bed...

...but only if I don't fall asleep first.


Stay tuned later in the week for another Do Something Good Givewaway! This one is going to be really fantastic, friends - and it's just in time for back-to-school. You won't want to miss it. Hint: The prize rhymes with "Fable's Cables". Eeek, I'm so excited about it! Tell all your friends to enter!
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