I might be feeling a little bit sorry for myself.
Today is my birthday and I had to work. That is nothing to complain about, most responsible adults work when their birthday falls on a work day. But then on my way home from work, after retrieving two of my three children, my mini-van malfunctioned and we were stranded.
A good friend rescued us, we retrieved my third child and made it home. Richard arrived shortly after and insisted that we still go to dinner. Dinner was good. As good as dinner at Red Robin with three kids five and under can be.
But then Richard had to go figure out something to do with the broken car while I put three very cranky children to bed, and now I’m alone. Pretty sad, huh?
We saved the birthday cake for tomorrow. The kids were too tired to really enjoy it, and frankly they were more excited about the whole birthday thing than I was. A sign of my age I suppose.
Twenty-nine. One more year to be a “twenty-something” and then I really need to grow up. Twenty-nine with almost four kids. How about that.
Well, another birthday in the books. Thanks for the calls, texts, emails and FB messages. I’m sorry I wasn’t much disposed to answer them. (And then there is that stupid phone of mine…)