Imagine, if you will, that you're here with me. I'm sitting at the computer, the house is in semi-darkness. Tre has already sneaked up the stairs to scare me and tell us goodnight. Clay is puttering about, doing his before bed things (Sudoku, phone messages, trying to lure me away from the computer with flirtatious comments), the dog is asleep on the rug, gently emitting noxious gasses.
I am bone-tired and about to submit to the siren call of the bathtub. But before I go, I wanted to offer you all the opportunity to wish me a happy birthday! Because I know you want to.
Remember last year, when I was all freaked out because I was turning 35? Wah, wah, wah, I'm so ooold! Well, this year there will be none of that. 36 sounds like a rockin' age to be. That's 6 squared. I won't be another squared number for 13 years. Can you tell Tre is studying factors? Oi, the brain strain I've suffered, trying to keep up with that child.
Anyhow! The point is! March 20 - first day of spring (no matter what it says on the calendar) - I am turning 36, and you're all invited to the virtual party. Grab a slice of cake, pull up, and tell me how happy you are that I'm alive! Or, if you prefer, give me some advice to carry me through the next 36 years. Whatever helps you be happy along with me. Because, my dears, it's my birthday. And I intend to be very, very happy.