Two Wild And Cuh-RAY-zee Guys!

Last Friday was Bee's birthday.  I hope this next year will be better, because this last year was kind of crappy for him.  All the stress he's had has caused him to grind his teeth, get some some sort of ear infection, and now have that infection travel down to his throat.  Since he is very much a victim of Man Colds, it's been a little hard around here.


His birthday was nice, though.  The ex-parents-in-law-by-marriage took Bee and me out to a very lovely dinner, then we met up with the rest of the Four Families at our house for Chocolate Coconut Cake (see photo above).  I must say that, although the cake was tasty and well-received, it was not my favorite.  Ah, Martha: you're slipping.

I did take great satisfaction, however, in renaming the Chocolate Coconut Cake (which had a richer taste thanks to the addition of some strongly-brewed coffee): it is now a "Mochanut Cake".

Get it?

Anyway, the evening was very mellow, which was nice.  I was an exhausted host for the cake-party since I'd had an entire glass of champagne and half a glass of red wine at dinner.  That's right: I'm a tired drunk.  Alternatively, Bee's a happy drunk, and Mr. C is a mean drunk (don't ask me how I know that).  I was so full from dinner and drowsy from the wine, it's a good thing the cake was lighter; unlike the coconut monster cake debacle I made for Bee's birthday last year.

 Ahhh, another year older.  I think we're both starting to feel Bee's age, despite the fact that Bee's actually 14 years older than me.  (I think part of the reason that our marriage is so strong is because of the way we balance each other: he's as fun-loving as a 20-year-old, I'm as frigid as a 60-year-old, and both of our bodies are falling apart at the same rate.) 

Unfortunately, this last year and the birthday at the end of it really served to age Bee.  I know this because of what occurred last Saturday.  Bee was antsy towards the evening, and I encouraged him to go out.  There was a band he really wanted to see; although it wasn't starting until the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock, such a fact does not often deter young-at-heart Bee (unlike yours truly, who is in her jam-jams, drinking her prune juice by then).

"Come on, you should go," I insisted (mostly because I was dying to sneak out the vanilla ice cream I still had hidden in the freezer).

Bee flopped down next to me on the couch.  "You know what I really want to do?" he asked, sounding almost passionate.

I raised my eyebrows, eager to hear his wild and crazy plan.

"I'd really like to take an antacid and a few ibuprofen."

Which was my cue to start chanting the Bay City Rollers: "S! A! T-U-R! D-A-Y!  NIGHT!"

Because when your idea of a Saturday night good time revolves around Pepcid, you obviously know how to rock it up! roll it up! do it all! have a ball! and just all-around party.