Next is my husband. His is the 12th. Mine is the 15th and what I have learned to refer to as...an after effect. If I am not planning a child's birthday, I'm being reminded by my husband, a good month in advance, that Chris-a-palooza is looming, almost upon us. Chris-a-palooza is not just him celebrating his birthday...but him celebrating his birth WEEK. Yes, Chris-a-palooza is a week long celebration of HIM!
Yesterday, our local (weekly) newspaper came. I placed it on the table waiting for a few quiet moments when I might scan the paper looking for interesting tid-bits of news from our charming little metropolis when my eyes were drawn to the upper corner of the third page. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. You can laugh too!
And laughed. That picture was taken at our Fall Ball, when my husband, dressed as Braveheart switched wigs with Rachel, who was dressed as Dolly Parton. The catch 22 of living in a small town...nothing is ever private for long. THANKFULLY no one had a camera on him when he showed us what he had on under his kilt! (or if they did, they're saving that for another occasion)
This may be the first time in Chris-a-palooza history that I make it through the week chuckling each day as I think of that ad. I also have to say how blessed we are to have friends who make us feel special.
I'll let you define "special".