Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Age is Just a Number

On Saturday, Hubs turns a very big number.

It's one of those monumental birthdays, the kind worthy of celebration and big things, like cakes and parties, company, and lots of birthday-esque types of things.

Only there is a catch.

Hubs isn't a big celebration kind of guy. For years, it used to make me feel guilty; I'd wonder if he felt like he was missing out on something. Presents? Parties? Anything?

"What kind of cake do you want, sweetie?" I asked him after dinner.

"No cake."

"Pie? I can make pie. Any pie you want, " I offered.

"No, it's okay."

"No cake? Pie? Presents? A nice meal, maybe? Throw me a bone, sweetie-is there SOME way that I can show my love and appreciation for having you in my life and being the father of my child for the past almost 20 years, and say I'm happy that you were born a whole 60 years ago?" I was exasperated. Who doesn't even want a cake on their birthday?

"I'm okay with going to Lee Valley and KMS," he explained. "I don't need a big birthday. Relax."

*sigh* Okay. I'll relax this time. I refuse to feel guilty that it's this BIG birthday and I feel like I'm doing nothing for it. I'll just remember the big motorcycle trip we have planned for the summer and how that is our gift to each other because I turn a big number in March.

Wait a sec. Remember last year and MY elusive birthday cake?

"Honey, I'll let the cake thing go but there's something you need to remember," I grab his hand and look deep into his eyes this time, smiling sweetly. Thinking I'm going to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, he leans in close to listen.

"I. Want. A. Birthday. Cake. This. Year. M'kay? Forty with no birthday cake will make me want to smother you in your sleep. You want a trip to the hardware store, I must have chocolate. Big ass chocolate cake. Got it?"

He nods solemnly.

"Got it."

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