I’m at that sour-pus old age where birthdays don’t seem so happy anymore. What’s the fun in turning thirty-four? (Anybody want to help me tweeze out a gray hair or twenty?) It’s not like it’s a big round number worth throwing a party over. And I’m too old for fussing and I’m too young be forgetting when my birthday is. I’m just at that right age to feel grumpy about it. Bah Humbug. Birthdays suck.

When I woke up this morning, on the wrong side of the bed, I was determined that today was just going to be one disappointment after another. Why wouldn’t it be? Every other birthday has been one sad story after another. I even eeked out a few tears feeling sorry for myself. Pathetic, I know.

I rolled myself out of bed, fed the baby, checked my email, threw out about twenty birthday spam emails…. and then I found a sweet e-card from whoorl. Okay, that was kind of nice. Maybe I unwrinkled one furrow from my brow and let my curled lip relax for a minute while I watched the cup cakes bounce around to the cheery music. Mmmmmm cupcakes.

By mid-morning there was a silly rhyming birthday song recorded into my voicemail. So maybe I cracked a smile. Maybe I do have a friend or two who love me. Then came some flowers and they were kind of sweet too. I even liked the arrangement and I’m picky about that sort of thing. Maybe it was the bright pink color that made me stand a little straighter and stopped my dragging feet from rubbing along the carpet so much.

By noon the house was hot and sweaty. Even the flowers couldn’t keep my royal bad mood from attacking with a vengeance so Toby sent me off to the mall to buy myself a new mouse for my laptop. Oooooh new stuff. Plus, the air conditioning in my new car is awesome. Kinda like a fresh breath from Alaska. Sometimes that makes me forget to be grumpy. That and the birthday iced mocha I bought for myself. Chocolate is yummy.

When I got to the mac store I spied a wacom tablet. Maybe a wacom tablet would be a nice birthday present. I called home to make sure. “Of course!” said Toby. “It’s your birthday!” Even though we both know that I can easily write off a wacom tablet as a business expense, I’ve just never gotten around to buying one. It makes me feel better to get his blessing.

While standing in the check out line I started to dream of all the illustrations I could make with my new wacom tablet and maybe I cracked my crooked half smile just a tiny bit bigger. Just a smidge. But still birthdays are dumb.

Then I got home and it was baby this and baby that. No time for installing any new fun computer gadgets. So it sat and taunted me. Birthday Schmirthday. I still have to change diapers and clean pureed butternut squash off the bottom of the high chair tray. Don’t be so cute when you smile at me Baby Bug. Mommy is grumpy today. Grump Grump Grump.

But then my mother-in-law and brother-in-law came over and my mother-in-law made me a cake. A cake! She didn’t have an icing tip so the letters on the cake are thick and drippy. Sort of like what it would be like if you iced it with toothpaste. But it was chocolate and homemade and if I didn’t think that was sweet then I must have a heart of cement. And then there were presents and Baby Bug was an absolute angel baby.

Okay, you win. I did have a happy birthday.

But I’m still thirty-four and I have gray hair. harumph!