Happy Birthday To Me

Yesterday was my birthday. Which, if you know me, is always a big deal because I have a love/hate relationship with birthdays.

(Wore my FANCY slippers to celebrate!)

I hate the thought of getting older (which is why I stay 28 year after endless year) but I love having a day that’s all mine. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and all other days that bring the family together to celebrate…But, call me selfish, my birthday is all about me. We eat what I want, where I want, people send me cards to make me laugh and tell me they love me, and there’s ALWAYS chocolate cake involved.

Perfection.

Which might make you think that, since I’m recovering from the horrible skin cancer surgery this year, that it’s the worst birthday ever.

You would, in fact, be wrong.

First of all, friends of mine had an early party and gave me a crown to wear, the following weekend Opie and I went to the Melting Pot for brunch and bottomless mimosas, plus (more on this later!) he agreed to buy this house we’ve had our eye on for years!

So, if you think about it, I’m getting a new house to go with my new face this year – pretty hard to call that a bad birthday.

No, as a matter of fact, this isn't a picture of Jared with his first fish.
 It's not even a picture of Jared. It's me with my other brother, Tim,
 on a totally different fishing trip. Why would I reward Jared's blatant
thunder theft with even the smallest modicum of attention?!

Besides, the worst birthday ever was when I was about 8 and my birthday fell over Easter Break so the whole family went on a camping and fishing trip. And my brother Jared, who was 6 at the time, selfishly stole my thunder by catching his first fish ON MY BIRTHDAY! I’m sure I still got presents and cake and everything else but fishing was a big sport in my family and what I really remember was a lot of oohing and aahhing and picture taking over my brother’s accomplishment.

Jared tries to act like this was all happenstance, like his six-year-old self had no control over the fickle fancies of fish but I’d like to mention that even now, 20 some years later, he hasn’t really apologized.

I’m not going to say that I scheduled the forehead flap surgery for HIS birthday this year just to get back at him…but it’s interesting to note that karma has a long memory.

I should also note that my mom was here for my birthday this year and she and Opie didn’t let the actual day pass without some special attention. I had gifts and cards…Opie stopped on his way home from work to get some delicious cupcakes and, even though he has the whole “I bought you a HOUSE for the love of God” argument in his back pocket, he got me a Cancer Survivor charm for my charm bracelet.

So, in short, cancer can suck it. The healing is continuing, my face still looks REALLY bad but my spirits are pretty good, I’ve got the best friends and family in the world, and any day with chocolate cake is a good day.

Plus there’s really nothing like skin cancer to put that whole “first fish” thing in perspective.

Happy Birthday?

Last night I found mouse droppings in the cabinet.

This is, of course, disgusting.

However, this is rural Oklahoma and we do tend to get one or two of the horrifying, vermin-ridden creatures when the weather turns warm.

What really bothers me is the fact that we have a CAT for the love of heaven, not to mention 2 dogs. And although Sassypants isn’t much of a hunter, Bubba is a serial squirderer AND a birderer.  Why, why WHY am I the one who has to find and deal with a mouse in the house?

And by “deal with” I obviously mean scream at Opie to do something.

The long and the short of it is, we pulled everything out of the cabinet and set traps before we went to bed last night.

On a slightly related note, I’m curious if anyone in the history of mankind has ever caught a mouse in one of the humane, catch and release, cost about 10 times more than the snap trap type traps? Every single time we have had a mouse, I have put those things out loaded to the gills with peanut butter, and every single time the mouse has chosen to run over the snap trap instead.

The mice are clearly suicidal.

In any case, the point of this whole drama is that today is Opie’s birthday and he took the day off work. And, it is interesting to note, starting your morning listening to your wife scream about dead mice in the cabinets and then being forced to remove the mouse carcass amid more shrieking before you are allowed any coffee is, apparently, NOT a good start to your birthday celebrations.

Though he seems happy enough now....hmmmm...wondering if he spiked his coffee when my back was turned….

Mouse? What mouse? I don't see no stinkin' mouse in here.