Tuesday was Tam O'Shanter's birthday, so we had a joint picnic celebration yesterday, which seemed to involve a lot of me lifting up Small Thing so she could place various toy lizards in tree branches. We turned 75. We are old.
Today is New Girl's birthday so we got together last night for midnight drinks and to swap presents. Then Man Hands drove me home, claiming to be perfectly fine to get behind the wheel of his turbo-charged Subaru. "Ride like the wind, Bullseye!" shrieked new Girl as we shot out of the garage at an alarming pace. There was much crazy talk about meeting up for breakfast this morning. Fortunately I got a text from New Girl at about 7.30: "Headaches, not eggs, that's what everyone's talking about today. Headaches are the thing. Breakfast is off."
Lastly, today is also Grumpy's girlfriend's birthday. We'll, er, leave them to their own celebrating.
1 comment:
Is this some weird type of Sagiatarius cult or something?
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