Well, it’s Steve’s birthday again. For a couple of months, he can’t call me old. He still will, and technically he’d be right, but for a couple of months, we’re the same age.
I’ve got his birthday and Christmas presents sitting beside me here, and I heard him bundling my Christmas presents into gift bags, so I know we’re both ready to give each other stuff. The question is when’s a good time. Right now, I’m looking at his presents, and it looks like kind of a pathetically small set. I’m trying to figure out if I can quickly add something to the pile so it might look respectable. Hmmm. Maybe I can.
Well, the fates have decided that’s not going to happen. Damn damn damn. Well, I hope he likes what I got him. When I got it and was collecting it all, I felt pretty proud of myself. Now, I’m not so sure.
It also doesn’t help that he sort of knows where each item came from, so part of the element of surprise is gone. That, in large part, is due to the fact that I suck at keeping secrets. When he’s sitting near me, and an email comes in and says “your receipt for your purchase”, I should not respond by saying aloud “Woohoo!…shit!” If I’d just left it at “Woohoo!”, he would have had no idea whose Christmas present just shipped. The addition of “Shit” makes sure he knows it’s for him.
Later today, our plan is to go to a new restaurant that’s run by the people who run the Woolwich Arms that we love so much. Yes, they sell Stone Hammmer beer, and he loves him some Stone Hammer beer. So it’s gotta be the place to go for his birthday!
But I’m starting to worry if even this part of the plan is flawed. You see, I only sorta maybe know where this place is, and although drinking Stone Hammer beer I’m sure would be a fine Christmas present, taking a protracted bus route and wandering around in the cold/snow looking for a place that I only half know where to find doesn’t seem like a very nice birthday present considering how much he hates the bus and the cold. Hmmm. Steve, let me know if you still want to go there. I don’t want to be so stubborn that I aim only to win but lose sight of the goal. If you’d rather go somewhere else, just say the word. It’s your day after all.
Ok, he’s on the phone with his grandparents. I’m going to try one more time to snag this birthday thingamabob.
Well, that wasn’t the thingamabob that I intended, but it’ll do. Ah. I feel better.
So, happy birthday, old man. I hope this day is fun for ya. Ooo. He’s got his thingamabob!