Brandon, of course, had to work on his birthday. Every year I pester him about taking his birthday off and every year he replies that real adults still have responsibilities even if it's their birthday. I'm just fine with not being a real adult on my birthday and always try to shuck as many responsibilities as possible. But I am morally inferior to Brandon. So.
The children and I started his morning off with a surprise tasty breakfast, overnight baked french toast with raspberries and whipped cream. The girls had secretly made signs, cards, and a crown for him. That afternoon I left with children with Zarifa and surprised Brandon with lunch. We had a great time and I returned him to the embassy within the 90 minute time allotted to us by his boss.
I had planned a tasty birthday dinner - pad thai and spring rolls with raspberry pavlovas - but it had to be postponed due to a last-minute command performance at a reception. So instead the children and came to the embassy for swimming and had dinner al fresco next to the pool.
For Brandon's birthday Saturday we had a picnic. We hiked to a nice spot next to a small river and laid out our blanket under the sycamore trees. After eating, Brandon and I relaxed while the children waded in the river. Several got soaked, as they always do, but everyone dried out in the end.
Father's Day was low-key, at Brandon's request. He slept in this morning while I fried up doughnuts and Edwin scrambled eggs for breakfast. We had chicken pot pie, made on Friday, for dinner. This year I didn't even attempt to buy presents; Brandon has never cared much about things, so I didn't waste our money on something he really wouldn't care about. We all just enjoyed each other's company and enjoyed a quiet Sunday. Well, quiet until the end when Joseph decided to throw up a few times just for fun (mild concussion? Food poisoning?).
The way I feel about Brandon is not something that I can adequately put into words. I'm not skilled enough to express what I feel and anything less would only come across as trite. But just in case the internet, or future posterity, is wondering, I'm pretty fond of him. He treats me much better than I deserve (well, on my bad days) and loves his children more than they'll understand until they get to have children of their own. None of us have any doubt about his priorities - if he could get paid to spend all day with us, he would. He goes to work every day so that we can have a nice house to live in, plenty of food to eat, and time to sit by the pool while he watches from an office, working while we play. He gives up the last piece of cake, his private time, and his choice in movies just so the rest of us can have what we want. He stays up late listening to me talking about nothing, and reads the children a story every night, some nights before he even gets his own dinner. We all know that we are the most important things in his world. And he is the most important in ours. We love you, Brandon.
