So, you know that 20-year-old jarhead I picked up at a club in D.C. way back when? He's turning 40 today. I really need to look into exchanging him for a younger Marine.
The kid and I gave him his gifts early - a Kindle Fire and a pair of jeans. He's been playing Angry Birds on the Kindle for the past two days, which was actually part of my plan as it frees up the TV for me to watch the stuff I had piling up on the DVR. We went to Red Robin for dinner last night so that he could claim his free birthday burger. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, he made the same announcement he has made about every restaurant (or any public establishment of any kind for that matter) for the past two decades: "It's packed." I'm throwing a little party for him Saturday night (at an equally packed restaurant on the other side of town).
The kid made him a card that says, "It's your britday, Dad!" Then she wrote "40" all over it and included a sticker of a snowman saying "Good job!" Good job on getting old, I guess? She also exclaimed, "Hey Mom, you're turning 42 and Daddy is turning 40? Daddy is two years younger than you????" Yes, kid, I've done the math. Thank you for that, though.
Happy birthday to my handsome, smart, comic-book-reading, one-star-movie-watching, grey-haired husband. You are a wonderful father and husband and we love you very much! You've been complaining for twenty years now that I never fill the ice cube trays (why should I when you are SO good at it, babe?) so maybe I'll throw you a bone and fill them today in honor of your birth. But just this once.