Bedside birthday.

I went to bed last night in a pretty lousy mood and woke up today feeling just as lousy - my shoulders and heart very heavy with guilt for doing virtually nothing for Doug's birthday. It's not like one turns thirty-three every day. It should be celebrated, and it was woefully so not celebrated here in Dedham. Doug did get a gift to open from me (one that Wyatt loved gnawing on... it's ribbon time, one of Wyatt's favorite times of year - hours of fun with the how-much-cat-phlegm-can-the-ribbon-bring-up-out-of-Wyatt's-throat? game.), but it was a new pair of jeans, a new sweater, and a gift card. Useful and definitely nice, but not exciting.

So, to make up for being such a lame wife, I decided to do something a little more interesting tonight. I didn't go to Doug's show because I was at work doing the budget, but when I finally got home I did get into the car, stick the strange little key into the ignition, and press the start button to go out and grab something quick with which to celebrate Doug's special day. (And can I share how odd it is to be able to get into the car and go somewhere, on my own, without Doug having to be around to let me use the car? So freeing! And still so odd. What is this new life that I'm leading?) I picked up a cake at Whole Foods, a big Belgian beer with a ghost on the label, an iced tea, and a balloon. Because I know he won't be home from the show for at least another hour or so, I figured the best place to put these surprises would be on his bedside table... that way I'm guaranteed to be near him when he notices that, indeed, I did remember his birthday and do care enough to try to make it a little more special than a regular day. Plus, Wyatt's up there on the bed now, keeping Doug's gifts from yesterday warm. Maybe if he sees the peanut butter mousse cake, the drinks, the balloon, and the cute little mop of a cat all at once he'll forgive me for being so dull and preoccupied. Here's hoping!

Happy birthday, Stinks - hope you know I love you.