Birthday

Today was my birthday and it started out in a unique way by Richelle sitting me into a chair and giving me a hand-lettered breakfast menu complete with appetizer (applesauce), entrées (scrambled eggs with my choice of bacon or sausage and whole wheat or oat bread toast; hot oatmeal; and cold cereal of my choice from Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms, or Honey Crisp Medley), beverages (water, coffee, teas of several varieties, hot chocolate, or milk), and dessert of apple with or without caramel. The menu came complete with prices and a baggie of play money.

She left me to make up my mind and then returned a few minutes later wearing an apron and carrying a small pad of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. She took my order rather professionally, I thought, and went back to the kitchen. A few minutes later she brought me my applesauce and left again. In due course of time, back she came with a plate of Scrambled Egg Supreme with bacon and a slice of oat bread toast and a cup of vanilla chai, all done to perfection. I don't even recall teaching her how to properly scramble eggs or how to fashion and cook a sausage patty (husband of the birthday girl was also waited on) from bulk sausage! There are times I'm convinced that child learns by osmosis.

She came once to ask how everything tasted and if it was to our liking and then returned once more to present the bill...which I paid for with the play money provided.

I made lunch since Mike is on swing shift but at supper time, Richelle led me to the table which had a candle burning in the center and was set with one placing of silverware wrapped up in a napkin and a supper menu. The appetizer was peanut butter and honey on wheat bread toast; entrée was my choice of a Sandwich Slam (whatever I wanted between two pieces of bread), cheese toast, mac 'n' cheese, cheese quesadilla, turkey wrap (turkey slices rolled with sliced cheese), and Bacon a la Cheese (crumbled bacon and grated cheese); drink choices were Mountain Dew, Kool-aid tropical punch, Kool-aid lemon-lime, milk, and Kool-aid orange; dessert was fresh, homemade oatmeal cookies. We don't really consume that much cheese and certainly not that vast amount of Kool-aid but she went with what she could make.

What a hoot! I loved it and am saving those precious menus with the date lightly penciled on the backs. Those meals was her gift to me and a wonderful, thoughtful gift it was. I will always remember it. Such a darling daughter!

The little grand piano at the top of this post was Mike's gift to me. It's a trinket music box that plays "I Just Wanna Be Loved By You." I know each year that I'll get a grand piano figurine of some sort. It's not the piano that's the gift but the reason for it.

You see, years ago when the kids would whine about not having something they wanted, I'd point out that I'd always wanted a baby grand piano but they don't see one in the front room. That was always my standard retort....until Melissa gave me a little grand piano figurine at Christmas in 2000. She was so tickled that the house almost couldn't contain her and when I opened her gift, she squealed, "Now you can't say you don't have a grand piano anymore!"

I received two more from her and Mike has carried on in her memory.

Still too small

Every child hates the words "you're to short/young/light to do this" whatever "this" is and they can scarcely wait for the day when they're tall/old/heavy enough to do whatever it is they want to do.

Mike and I decided Richelle was old enough to take the responsibility of keeping the lower field mowed this summer and Richelle was eager to take on the job.

Yesterday, Mike walked along while Richelle took her first turn going solo on the riding lawn mower. She had difficulty keeping the engine running because every time she hit a bump, she bounced in the seat and triggered the kill switch located under it.

It finally died halfway around the field and Mike told her, "Honey, you just don't have a big enough bum for this, yet."

There are worse things in life than not having a big bum.

*Shriek*

So I'm not the sort of loving, caring wife who gets up with her husband at 4:45am and keeps him company over a plate of breakfast before he goes to work. I'm also not the sort of loving, caring wife who packs her husband's lunch for him and haven't done so since about six months into our marriage when he alternately whined about not having enough to eat ("Are you trying to tell me I need to diet?") or complained I'd packed too much (How in the world did you expect me to eat all this?")

Instead, I doze while he gets himself breakfast (cold cereal) and rouse enough for the good-bye peck. I can't see but a shadow in the dimness of the bedroom and couldn't see him in full light without my glasses, anyway. He could go to work dressed in a kilt and turban with a sword at his side and I wouldn't be the wiser.

It's how he comes home that I see.

He came home today without his mustache.

~Shriek~

When I exclaimed, he said he'd had it for thirty years and he was tired of it. I told him that it's only been a little better than twenty-six years. When he disagreed, I reminded him that early on in our dating days he'd shaved his mustache and I'd told him that I liked his mustache, ordered him to grow it back, and threatened to shave my head if he shaved it off again.

"No," he chuckled, "you said if I shaved it off again, you'd leave. Now you need to live up to your end of the bargain!"

Bargain, hah! It was supposed to be a threat!

His naked upper lip unnerves me in two ways. One, I really liked his mustache. Two, I can now see that his lip is identical to his younger brother's and I have the uncomfortable feeling that I'm kissing the wrong guy. Yikes!

Those flower baskets

I saw Mike walk outdoors this evening with his measuring tape and followed him to see what he was going to build next. Turns out he was measuring the flowers in the baskets. I guess he wanted solid proof to back up his assertions that they are growing.

Cameron keeps walking into one of them....you'd think he'd learn after getting clobbered a few times.

When I get my camera back, I'll post a few pics of them. I'm suppose to get it tomorrow. We'll see if Nick remembers it when he brings back the camping gear he borrowed along with the camera.