That's right my friends.
Twenty five years ago today, this happened:
Lucky for Georgia's sake, she was able to mix this large headed, naked wonder with her father's genes and thus, end up with genetics that are far superior to such a being.
But even large headed, naked wonders get to have a birthday! And today is mine.
For my birthday, I have given specific marching orders.
Marching Order #1. There must be an Anjou Bakery cinnamon roll, at some point. If you don't live near the Anjou Bakery, I apologize. Your life may always feel incomplete without this buttery, flaky pastry. There is no goop. It's like a cinnamonny, flaky, butter ball. And I almost die of happiness, and cardiac arrest, each time I eat one.
Marching Order #2. As I am coming off the butter and sugary high from Order #1, I shall re-rev the high with a homemade London Fog for Order #2. Because it's my birthday and I can. I already told my dearest Carlee that it's a proven fact – calories do not count on your birthday. Especially when you're lactating. It's like a double-do-not-count calorie day.
Marching Order #3. As part of birthday tradition, I get to pick the meal for dinner. My choice this year is meatloaf and mashed potatoes. If you are worried about the amount of red meat, starches, carbohydrates, sugar, and butter I will consume today, please see the last sentence in Order #2.
Marching Order #4. Actually, I think that's the only marching orders. And as usual, they revolve around food consumption.
As previously noted before (and yesterday), I need professional help.
I also may need some help with these slight wrinkles I am beginning to acquire around my eyes. Twenty five years of a rough life will do that to ya.
In all seriousness, I am very happy about growing older. What a blessing to have been given another year to enjoy the beauty of God's created world. Even if that created world involves things like calories and wrinkles.
Because it also involves things like Family. Friends. Food. Gardens. Bovines.
Which I plan to sip as I eat my cinnamon roll, meatloaf, and mashed potatoes. When in Rome, I say. When in Rome, eat a lot of food and drink a good wine on your birthday.
Sigh. This is truly the good life.
Cheers, my friends!