First off, I really need to show you this photo of my four-month-old nephew. My middle sister posted it on my Facebook page yesterday.
That photo is the cutest thing you've ever seen, right? A and I are flying out to DC to meet this little guy at the end of March. I am really concerned that that new baby smell will have worn off completely by then. Seeing the photo made my day. Well, lots of things made my day yesterday, which was also my birthday. It's always amusing to me when people ask, "Your birthday is really on Valentine's Day?" I'm not sure who would lie about the date of their birth (or why). Or maybe my mom, who was a teenager when I was born, somehow falsified my birth certificate because I was REALLY born on [dun dun dun!] February 13th. But anyway, yes, my birthday is really on Valentine's Day. It's legit. And I was legit, too - those crazy kids were married and whatnot. In case you wondered.
I got a lot of nice messages on my Facebook wall yesterday, so I felt all poopular for a second there. One friend thanked me for my rescue work, another thanked me for my tres amusante Facebook status updates, a couple of friends pointed out that I am old, and so forth. I asked my daughter for one and only one thing for my birthday. I asked her if she would get up when her alarm went off and then get dressed voluntarily and on time. I did not get my wish. Her alarm went off at 6:10 a.m. and by 6:20 she was in a naked heap on the floor, crying loudly and bemoaning all the ways in which we've wronged her. So much for that.
The problem with being a grown-up is that you have to work on your birthday. So, I went to work as usual. We had a baking contest at work yesterday in honor of Valentine's Day and I did not win. Perhaps my co-workers misunderstood the unwritten rule about voting for the birthday girl. I came in second. The co-worker who won is a super-nice guy, which made it really hard to mock his victory. And believe me, I tried.
I rounded out the evening by watching some stuff I had on the DVR - "House" and "Dance Moms." I don't know what to say about Dance Moms. It's like a car accident where I can't look away. It makes me really glad my daughter has demonstrated zero talent in dance and that it's unlikely I'll ever have to spend time in a studio like the moms on the show. They are barking mad, every single one. And yet, somehow entertaining.
In closing, I just want to welcome my wee baby sister back to the land of the internets and over-sharing. She has not had computer access for the past couple of years. However, now she and my brother-in-law are running a convenience store* and have internet access there. Feel free to check out her blog.
*It is not called Kwik-E-Mart, which disappoints me greatly.
No, she does not think it's funny if you call there and ask for Apu. Believe me, I know.
No, they do not have a Squishee machine - which, I think you'll agree, is bullshit.