Today is my 33rd birthday. To borrow a term (or downright steal, which I’m pretty good at if you have ever bothered to read my mediocre musings) from my brother in-law Andrew “I coach like Pat Summit but I dress like Bobby Knight” Baillie, I’m celebrating my Larry Bird birthday. This is in obvious reference to his jersey number and not ability to shoot the trey or grow a skinned coloured feather duster on my top lip.
As far as birthdays go, this one has been pretty good. It’s weird how a day that you really had nothing to do with (according to my amateur sex ed. knowledge I owe this day to Mommy and Daddy) can make you think and reflect upon why you are receiving so many accolades on this given day? In the past it didn’t really matter to me. I’d take the accolades and acknowledgement and hammer my way down to a local watering hole. However all good things come to an end. You know you are getting old when your birthday rolls out and your first thought isn’t about downing as many green bottles as you can. In my ever advancing age my only thoughts and expectations about this evening were about spending time with the First Lady and my young son, the Association.
Spending time with them this evening was the best present I could have ever received. It’s been a pretty busy week at the school and I’ve missed some quality time at the humble abode, so I was more than happy when I arrived home from work tonight to see the Association honing his snap shot in the drive way with a huge “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sign. To top it off he was wearing a “Daddy’s Little Helper” jersey. You have to give it to the young squire, he has perfected my art of sucking up to his parent(s).
From the drive way the First Lady, the Association and I made our way to Canyon Creek Steakhouse for dinner. Now this may not sound too decadent to some but it’s become apparent to me that when you have small children your fine dining opportunities shrink drastically. In any event to make a long story short I had a beautiful steak (sorry PETA) and yada yada yada a birthday brownie came to the table, the young squire was flirting with the hostess and before I could spill another adult beverage all over the table, the dinner was over.
I had a wonderful time and I can easily exclaim that life is grand. Thanks to everyone for all the birthday love, phone calls and facebook messages. Clink, clink go my green bottles. Cheers to all of you!!!