Much to my husband’s chagrin, I insist on celebrating my birthday for an entire week every year. The first couple of times he thought it was cute, but when I reminded him of it this year he said, “You’re still doing that??” Yes, yes I am. And it started yesterday. The boy’s not stupid though; he presented me with these first thing this morning:
Pretty flowers make me happy.
So the basics of birthday week are that I get to indulge in whatever I want all week long without feeling guilty, and I get to choose whatever activities I want for the week and David must comply. Genius, right? I know I’ll probably gain about ten pounds, but it’s so worth it. My actual birthday is on Friday, and there will be a wild party at my parents’ house. A wild party that will end by 9 p.m. and involves only my family and zero alcohol, but wild nonetheless.
Happy Monday, and happy birthday week to me. :)