So, I turned 31 a few weeks ago. Hopefully, you wished me, “Happy Birthday” on Facebook. If not, we are clearly not the best of friends. I kid, I kid… Seriously, though, it was a great birthday. I already told you what my most-awesomest husband whipped up for me in this post. I didn’t really talk much about my actual birthday. Spoiler alert: that’s what’s about to happen, so if you’re not interested, you probably should stop reading now. There’s some mention of my adorable children and dashing husband, but this is mostly about me. There’s no diy projects, either. Sorry.
So…. David and Harrison made breakfast: crepes and eggs. I would show you a picture, but those babies were gone lickety-split. I got to open my cards and gifts afterward. They were sweet, and Beckett’s involved food. David whipped up some chocolate-peanut butter concoction and had Beckett put his hand and footprint in it. I later told him I saw said gift in the freezer and almost told him I thought something odd was happening to it because it appeared to be rising in the center. Turns out that was just after Beckett left his imprint. I also asked why he felt the need to stick our son’s hand and foot in food, and he told me that he thought it would be nice to personalize it. Well, either way, it was delicious.
We headed to Cottleville to VB Chocolate Bar, and got some coffees. Um, if you haven’t been there (and can), GO. Sure they have nice chocolates and cocktails, but the coffee is uh-mazing. I got an iced lavender and (drawing a blank) latte. Now you have to go to find out what it was. We got a family picture, and I got a picture of me with the boys. You know it had to be my birthday.
Afterward, Harrison and I went to Faust Park for the rest of the morning. He rode a purple dinosaur (thankfully, not Barney), and I had a conversation with a 9-year-old, 4th grader, who is the youngest, but smartest in his class. He also wanted me to watch him climb and jump off of everything. This was the 9-year-old complete stranger, not my son. I asked him at one point where his mother was, and he told me in a meeting. Fortunately, the meeting was on a picnic table not too far away. I still felt the need to tell her when we left to enter the Butterfly House. You know, in case she was relying on me to watch her son.
I did a little shopping on my own for the afternoon (whoop, whoop), and then we all had birthday cake that David and Harrison made. So much food. Apparently, people in this house think food is the way to my heart.
We all went out for sushi for dinner, and, I kid you not, we were there so early that the entire time it was just us. If that is not the difference between your 31st and 21st birthday, I do not know what is. Wait, maybe it’s the difference between having children and not having children… Either way, it was delightful, and I must end with a gratuitous shot of my little foodie using his chopsticks.