So in all the hubbub over Uncle Paul and the Heckle grandkids on Sunday, I forgot (really, I blocked out) that my sister Jean called to wish everyone a happy Easter. She was too busy with her big promotion to the SuperTarget in Belvidere to make it home (I sound like Mother, curse the thought).
Anyway, when the phone was passed to me, Jean also happened to wish me a belated happy birthday (it was on April 1). She said that she planned on getting me an "over the hill" card (how thoughtful of her to even think of using her 30% employee discount on me), but she wasn't sure how I'd take it. Dear readers, I can tell you how I'd take it. I'd take it and cram it down my garbage disposal. Thanks for nothing, Jean.
No, I don't mean any of that. I get all in a huff so easily these days. Maybe I am getting old and crotchety (not "crochet"-y for my eagle-eyed readers--I haven't made that leap yet; knitting is still Sonny to my Cher). So now that you know I just turned 30, you probably want to know how I spent my birthday. Let's see what I remember: In the morning, I went to Muffins 'n Stuffins (Gail the baker is to blame for me tipping the scales past 130--I won't say HOW far past 130) for my favorite breakfast pastry, the "Nummykin" (I like mine with raspberry and cream cheese). I had to work on my birthday, so I didn't have a chance to treat myself at lunch (ate my usual ham-and-pickle sandwich). And for dinner, I had to order in from Chin's Palace because Mother was off playing pinochle with the girls. I ended my night with my boyfriends Ben & Jerry (two quarts worth) while I watched a double feature of Mannequin (terrible except for dreamboat Andrew McCarthy) and Weekend at Bernie's (terrible except for hottie Andrew McCarthy).
So you see, my birthday present was another dress size. Hopefully they'll do A Biggest Loser: 30-Year-Olds that I can get on. Oh, I've had enough of me for one day.
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