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Birthday Bashing

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On my birthday, one of the girls asked for a bedtime story. So naturally I said, “Thirty-nine years ago today, the most wonderful mom in the world was born.”

My husband added: “And so was Betsy.”

(Reminiscent of the famous choosing a cat story, don’t ya think?)

Hubs texted me that day: “Do you have a cake?”

Me: “No.” I mean, if I had one, I’d have had to bake it myself. So, clearly no. Which was fine with me. Just show me to the nearest ice cream. But he said, “No wife of mine isn’t going to have a baked good on her birthday.”

He turned up after work with six mini fruit pies from Walmart. Fifty cents each.

Who says the romance is dead?

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You’ll note there are only five pies pictured. The sixth, an additional apple pie, was left out. That’s my husband’s favorite. He bought two of those. I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

I leaned to the side so as not to mar the view of my single candle (to reflect the age I act) and my little “Happy Birthday” sign.

And I missed the Read the rest of this entry