Another Birthday

It would probably be a kindness to ignore birthdays for women that are past a "certain age", do you not think? Yet, they still keep coming. The alternative to growing a year older (not growing a year older) is not attractive.

So, yesterday I submitted to adding another year to my age. It was an enjoyable day spent with my family. While I took the girls to church, dh and Wm went to the grocery and returned with steak, corn on the cob, salad and "a surprise" for my birthday.

Wm announced as soon as they returned that they had a surprise for me but he wasn't allowed to tell what it was. I was impressed with his ability to keep the surprise. I tried several times to trick him into telling me, but he was on his game. I was reminded of my sister, many years ago, who also was told not to tell her Daddy what his present was. Immediately on coming into the house, she ran to Dad and said, "Daddy, I'm not allowed to tell you that we got you socks for your birthday! It's a secret!" My secret prize was a DQ chocolate ice cream cake which calls to my expanding waistline even as I type this morning. It screams to me telepathically to be released from it's freezer prison.

Before dinner, we all went to ride at a nearby arena, all five of us riding at one time, a dream of mine I'd had for a long time, come true. My daughters treated me to a back and foot massage as their present to me. All in all, a perfect day. Perhaps birthdays aren't so bad.