birthday cake (Photo credit: freakgirl)
If you haven’t seen or heard, my birthday’s right around the corner.
We’ve also had a bit of an issue with babysitting lately, due to a combination of factors ranging from vacations to sick relatives. Because of these glitches, I hadn’t made plans or asked anyone for sitting on my birthday, even though my husband took the day off so we could celebrate.
What I did know about my birthday is that I would be going to the DMV because my license needed to be renewed.
And that was it.
My husband turned to me, in the bluish glow of the television last night, and asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday.
We both chuckled about our babysitting situation, entertained the thought of requesting a sitter, and then acted out the imagined responses.
I turned to him and said sadly, “Nothing. Let’s do nothing. I just don’t think we’ll be able to do anything on my birthday this year.”
“So, we’ll be waking up to Matthew stomping,” he began, “and then I will make you some lousy eggs.”
He has had a bit of a bad run in the breakfast department lately.
“Mmm hmmm?” I responded, enthusiastically.
“And then we’ll spend the next two hours cleaning the kitchen,” he continued.
“And then we’ll struggle to get all the babies to nap, and once we do, they’ll wake up a half hour later.” I started to laugh.
“And after that, we’ll spend the next three hours figuring out dinner, cleaning it up, changing diapers, getting the babies to bed, and then having bad sex that lasts two minutes.”
I was laughing so hard, I lost my breath.
“And then we’ll spend the rest of the night with babies in our bed. Does that sound good? Is that what we’re going to do?”
With that, he was through. I was literally on my back, clutching my chest, with tears rolling down my face.
That said, I just lined up a sitter for Thursday.
