Sunday, May 24, 2015
How I Tried to Make Up For FORGETTING My Husband's Birthday
May is a busy month. First, there's my daughter's birthday. Then, two days later is our wedding anniversary. Then, a week later is my husband's birthday. You would think that having all those events in one month would make it easier to remember. You would think.
My husband and I don't do gifts. This year, on our 14th wedding anniversary, I said, "Happy anniversary," and he said, "You beat me to it," and we went about the day as usual.
But on my husband's birthday, I dismissed my fourth graders to recess, and opened a friend's email. She'd attached some pictures she'd taken at home(pre)school co-op, adding, "Say happy birthday to Pete for us!"
I looked at the date.
How could I forget his birthday?! I texted him immediately (I'm such a romantic), admitted that I'd forgotten, and apologized.
But that evening, when my husband had gone to work at his music studio, my daughter asked if he'd gone to his birthday party. I said no, and tried to explain that Daddy wasn't having a birthday party. Well, my daughter thought that was unacceptable. And I was glad she thought it was unacceptable. She should want to celebrate her father. He's wonderful. And I should make that possible for her. I told her we could have a birthday party for Daddy over the weekend, but that it was going to be a surprise, so she had to keep it secret.
Friday after I got off work, we stopped by the 99 Cent Store. She was completely in charge of planning and I let her buy whatever she wanted. She spent $12.
While my husband slept, we used the helium that was leftover from her birthday party to air up a dozen balloons, and taped up the decorations. The mylar balloons from her birthday were still inflated, so we used those too. She wiped her little table clean. She wrote "Der Dad" on the card she had chosen, and "Love," and signed it. She wrapped the solar robot she got him as a present.
I made coffee and bagels for the grown-ups, and pink lemonade and a rolled-up tortilla for her (it's what she wanted). I put one candle in my husband's bagel, but she put her hands on her hips and argued that he wasn't one year old and he should have more candles. I gave her the candles.
And then I sent her in to wake up my husband.
When he walked into the room, she yelled surprise with so much joy that I got teary eyed.