Happy Birthday To Me

I woke up yesterday morning, and remembered it was my birthday.

Sigh.

39.

Dude, (I often call myself dude when talking to myself) you're getting old and I swear I heard my hip creak when I got out of bed.

The kids went off to school forgetting it was my birthday and Rashele was too stressed about our upcoming trip to remember right away that morning.

Which truly is not a big deal, to me it's just another day. Even I had forgotten about my birthday in the days leading up to yesterday.

A million things needed to be done before we left town, and I'm ashamed that Rashele was hurriedly accomplishing most of them without me.

I let her carry way to much of the load planning this trip and getting things done.

So my birthday was the last thing on my mind, but Rashele and I did manage to sneak away for a very nice lunch, and a fat peice of bread pudding while the kids were all in school.

Upon arriving home from school Kyler and Claire-Marie both wished me a Happy Birthday when they blew through the door. (I think Rashele reminded them in the car)

We agreed no gifts this year as with the Paris/Brussels trip looming, finances would be tight, though I was secretly hoping that the kids would hand me a brightly wrapped iPhone :O)

But I got something far more valuable. Mason, my semi verbal son, who when he wants to, reminds us that he's acutely aware of his ability to speak when needed, did the following: