Birthday #37

Weekend birthdays are the best -- you can plan exactly what you want to do without the interference of any real responsibilities. Thus was the case Sunday, on the occasion of the 37th anniversary of my birth.

The kids presented me with a card before I had even gotten out of bed, and Edith especially was determined to make it a good day for me. ("I will make it a special day, Mama, because you're old," she said, not in the least bit snidely. And I'm barely paraphrasing.)

Paul and I got tickets to a pop-up brunch weeks ago, so we dropped the kids off with friends and ate a delicious meal. Then we walked around the Ohio State campus for a bit, until the humid weather got the best of us and we headed back to the air-conditioned car. (The construction on the Oval and at Mirror Lake didn't exactly lift the spirits either.)

The afternoon? A nap. And in the evening we visited my in-laws as usual, only this time I brought the best of all birthday cakes -- a blackout cake modeled after the one I loved so much in Brooklyn. (Mine's better.)

So my next year in life has started out pretty nicely. I even still have half a cake in the refrigerator.