Mea Culpa

Ok family, don’t feel too free to jump in and toss me under the bus, but I have a way with birthdays; mostly a way of forgetting them. Remembering birthdays is the most broken New Year’s resolution that I make, other than the whole losing 10 pounds thing. Sometimes, I look at magazines to store up good ideas for parties and vow that this is it! This is the year that I will make cakes of fondant and layers, that I will adorn our house with streamers and serve organic breakfast pancakes to the birthday child or spouse. That I will have cards on hand and lovely gift wrap ready to bedeck the thoughtful gifts that I purchased way, way ahead of time. So far, that year has not arrived. I have a sister-in-law who went to the “Martha Stewart School of Making Me Look Bad” who does all the fancy cakes and streamers and beautiful celebrations and I envy her talent and forethought.  (did I mention that she makes me look bad?) My mother is a wizard at parties and celebrations and you can count on her birthday cards to show up at least three days prior. But me, I am more of a text on the birthday of kinda gal. I’ll just say that this is my only major shortcoming in life and if you’ll agree, that would be great.

This year, I blew it worse than ever with my hubs. It started with the fact that he had to perform a wedding on his birthday, and our kids not being with us for the day, and me thinking that I would have time to shop on the way to the wedding, (I know, I know, call me crazy) and then me leaving his birthday cards on the dining room table as we rushed out the door. Then we stayed overnight, so I couldn’t make the cake until the next day, (homemade cheesecake, though) and then he had to work and I still didn’t have a gift, so I thought to myself, “I’ll stop on the way home from work to buy one.” Except then I forgot to stop and he never got a gift. I mentioned a few weeks later that I needed to get him something and he testily told me that I had passed the statute of limitations. What a jerk I am and so insensitive. I’m still getting him something; I just haven’t figured out what yet. Laters.