Forty-Three

Birthdays suck.

Let me rephrase that… once you reach a certain age, let’s say 28 or so, birthdays stop being fun things to look forward to. Birthdays start to suck.

Yesterday was my 43rd birthday. For the most part yesterday sucked. All day at work, every time I looked at my desk I saw my little Bruins calendar with the date May 8 staring up at me. When I looked at my phone the big 8 on the calendar app mocked me. Man, I was depressed. Birthdays suck.

After work, I picked my step daughter up at softball while my beloved wife picked up my step son at karate. Once we were all home for the night they brought out a birthday cake and the each gave me a birthday card. Okay… birthday’s don’t always suck. Maybe they suck in general, but when the people you love are showing that they love you back it stops sucking for a while.

I also got phone calls from my sister and brother. I was dealing with heavy traffic and trying to find a softball field I’d never been to before so I didn’t notice the phone ringing. Sorry about that. I had two voicemails. One was my nephew and niece singing happy birthday. They wished me a happy birthday, and they hoped I had a lot of cake. I did! The other was my two nephews singing happy birthday. They wanted to know if we went out for a birthday dinner. We did not, but maybe the Missus and I can sneak one in over the weekend? They also wanted to know if I had any balloons. Again, I did not, but if I did it would have made my birthday even better!

Thanks to everyone for making my suck of a birthday less sucky.