Joshua asked me tonight how many birthdays I want to have.
275.
I want to grow old and I really don't ever want to die.
Even though I'm pretty comfortable with what death means and where I'll go,
I still don't want to die.
And since hell would have to freeze before I could ever be translated, I picked 275 years old.
It just seemed like a safe and far away number.
I had a great day.
Trevor and the kids made it a great day.
He fixed me breakfast, put me in the bath (not literally), and sent me to a movie.
I saw Safe Haven and it was really good...
me and my Diet Dr. Pepper enjoyed ourselves.
While I was gone, they prepared birthday surprises.
I came home and the house was decorated
and a big round thing hung from the ceiling.
I unpeeled the tape holding the round mass together, and balloons, confetti and a
whole bunch of one dollar bills came pouring out on top of me!
It was awesome:
Then we played games;
face the cookie,
pin the tail on the donkey
(Trevor was hilarious playing this game!),
and we played a coin tossing game.
It was really so much fun.
And I decided that after a certain age, birthdays aren't for the ones being
celebrated anymore, they're for the ones planning and participating.
The kids had so much fun planning and preparing today with Trevor.
Trevor and I then went out for a little while.
And came home to eat walking tacos and have Strawberry Shortcake.
We saw my friend while out and she was disappointed in my choice of dessert.
But I explained that for the last week we've been eating
chocolate cake with coconut frosting and that we needed something a bit lighter.
But it's only been thirty minutes since we ate dessert and we're still stuffed.
So I think I made a good choice.
I'm 33 years old and feel exactly the same.
Except that wrinkle between my eyes keeps getting bigger and deeper.
And I worry sometimes, a lot actually, that I'm not learning important lessons
and that I'm not becoming a better person.
But I figure I have 242 years left to keep working at it
so I'm not stressing yet...