the hubby’s birthday
does cleaning kitchen count as
Today is my husband’s birthday. I didn’t forget – I knew it was coming. The wee one and I counted down the days. We planned to make cupcakes. We debated on a Roomba for a present.
Then, suddenly, the day was here. We did not make cupcakes. We did not buy a Roomba. Instead, my hubby took the wee one to the tire store and outfitted the car with four lovely new tires. He also got some windshield wipers. I stayed at home with the wee-er one, a cold, and my book. Who got the better deal? Toss up, I think.
Anyway, I feel like an asshole. He claims to have had a good day. And he’s happy to have new tires. And he got pizza and beer. But still, what kind of a lame wife am I?
I blame the cold. I was cranky and feverish and snotty and grumbly. I should blame myself, I know.
I wonder how well day-after-birthday cupcakes will go over? I can decorate them with little tires. 😛