What makes it a happy birthday
Today’s my birthday! And while you won’t hear it from me as to what actual age I’m turning, I am willing to share with you what’s going to make this a happy birthday to me this year. Here kicks off my weekend of celebration (because really when your birthday falls on a weekend, I like to think it’s only fair to stretch the events out over the course of the two days…)
It starts with a sleep in…at least, that’s what the hubby has promised. For me and any parent, a sleep in is a rare, treasured gift only to be bestowed on special occasions such as a birthday or Mother’s Day. Keep in mind that a sleep in around my house might only go until 8:30 a.m. or so. But compared to 6:30 a.m., I’m totally good with that.
Wait a minute…back up: I realize that the birthday is actually likely to start with my two kids jumping on our bed, bouncing excitedly and wanting to give me the gifts they so carefully shopped for with their dad, and the cards they thoughtfully put together. Then, après the gifting, I may fall back asleep, cuddle with the kiddies or just hang out in bed lazily.
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Lunch with the folks. They’re visiting from out of town today and bringing me one of the simplest, but yummiest lunches I know—ham and Gouda cheese sandwiches from The Dutch Toko, a Dutch goods provider in my old hometown. I’m guessing that at this lunch, a cake will show up too.
Dinner at a favourite French restaurant. I’m hoping somewhere over the course of the dinner, steamed mussels and French chardonnay will land on our table at Le Papillon. No kids by the way…my wonderful little sister is babysitting tonight and has given us a late-night pass which we’ll need because…
We’re going to a concert! A real grown up concert! The hubby got us tickets to the Lowest of the Low concert. My million dollar question is--what does one wear to a French restaurant and then to a concert at a bar you used to frequent as a university student? Because the last time I saw this band, I met my husband and I was sporting black combat boots, ripped jeans and a bodysuit. Hey, it was the early 90s…
Pancake breakfast at Golden Griddle. A Sunday morning occasional ritual for our family. Hands down, hot sweet coffee and pancakes drowning in maple syrup are my favourite breakfast.
Happy birthday to me.
