It was only the
Another innovation this year was my attempt to crowd the house with known faces from morning to evening. That went down well, considering the wife usually tends to mope around the time of her birthday what with the advent of old age and all, imperciptible really in my eyes (brownie point - score!). And finally, to firmly establish that I'm running out of ideas, I even went the corny way of getting flowers and a card with large hearts on it. I had to suffer scanning through cards that likened love to trees, gardens and an assorted range of flowers to finally find something that wouldn't induce puke.
And after the packaged pasta was cooked and consumed, after the 25 million phone calls were answered and the winter coat that didn't fit was unwrapped, the age old non-surprising act of celebrating with food and alcohol was carried out with much aplomb. Alcohol, as they say, is the answer - whatever the question. The company was good, the Bacardis stiff and there might even have been some inebriated guitar playing and singing by me. 'Twas the stuff hangovers are made of.
Anyway, happy birthday to the wife. Apart from my usual brilliance, I did the wise thing and avoided talking about age all day and like last year I wished her yet another happy 19th birthday. My brownie point count is at an all time high - somebody stop me.