So, yesterday was my husband's 38th birthday. All day I kept thinking he was going to be 58 instead and it seemed perfectly believable that he was going to be 20 years older than he actually is...not because he looks 20 years older, but because I feel about 20 years older, so why wouldn't I be married to someone in their fifties? Seems totally acceptable.
Since we don't have much money these days, I really struggled about what to get him. He said he didn't want anything, but come on, everybody needs a little somethin' to open on their birthday! At least I think so. And he said he didn't want to do anything for his birthday because he didn't have enough time. He just wanted to stay home with our son and me and work on the computer.
So, I decided to at least make him a hot breakfast, a special dinner, and bake him a cake.
I bought him Joel Osteen's new audio book, "It's Your Time," to listen to in the car while he is traveling. Even though we have concerns about organized religion and don't attend a church, my husband and I both like Joel Osteen's message of positivity. I have a problem with his view on homosexuality (he thinks it "isn't God's best" when I think it is a gift), but all in all, he is a positive preacher and I like that. No gloom and doom. No guilt and fearing God. I don't believe God should be feared.
Anyway, when did this turn into my views on God? Let's move on.
Then, came the cake. As soon as my son went down for his nap, out came the gluten-free cake mix. I was ready, I was excited, I was willing, I was...wait. Where are my cake pans? Oh, that's right. I don't own any cake pans.
I needed to borrow one. All of my neighbors were at work (there are no stay-at-home moms living around me, which makes me sad...I want someone to have tea and coffee with...someone who has kids who can play with my son while we gossip about Patrick Dempsey's hotness and Jon and Kate and vent about our husbands and kids...anyway) except for the sweet retired couple who live next door.
I grabbed my son (who wasn't asleep just yet) and we headed next door. My neighbor graciously let us in, but all she had was a 10x10 cake pan and the recipe called for an 8x8 cake pan. Oh well.
So, my husband ended up with a cake pancake. I had to use a freakin' toothpick to ice the sides. And it was a little dry because I had to guess when to take it out of the oven, so we just loaded the top with ice cream. Ice cream solves everything.
I cooked him Spaghetti Carbonara with roasted plum tomatoes on the side for dinner, neither of which I had ever made...but they turned out yummy! I made a pound of it, thinking we would have some left over, but my husband ate almost all of it, which made me feel creamy and gooey and glad inside.
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