I have been such a weirdo about my birthday this year. I usually turn into a sulky recluse this time of year (probably because birthdays were always a huge disappointment for me as a child, but that’s another story entirely), but this year was significantly worse. I didn’t even want to bake my own cake this year, which says a lot because I typically love baking myself a cake, or cupcakes, for my birthday. It gives me a chance to make some outlandish confection that I wouldn’t otherwise create, and spend literally five hours or so crafting something that will be devoured in twenty minutes. But I didn’t want to do that. And I didn’t want to even acknowledge that I was having a birthday. It wasn’t really the getting-older thing, either, since I’ve been waiting to turn thirty my entire life, and I still have a whole two years of waiting to do so. I’m usually really excited about getting older.
I have to admit that I do have the best husband and the best in-laws who put together the perfect, quaint BBQ get-together despite my wishes to remain unrecognized as the “birthday girl.” I even had the best cake: a vanilla sheet cake from Reynolds decorated in a “tropical, luau” theme. We ate the entire thing! Seriously though, I’ve never been a fan of supermarket birthday cake, but Reynolds knows how make one tasty-delicious cake. And it’s so refreshing to see everyone having a good time, and to watch our kids play together for hours on end.
I should also mention that on the morning of my birthday I received, hand down, the most amazing birthday card from Jobie the Black Angus Terrier, himself. This was enough to start the day off right, let me tell you.
Fortunately, I’m not such a sulky recluse anymore. In fact, I’m already planning a Fancy Dress Party for next year…