Today is my hubby’s birthday. I may be more excited about it than he is. Basically, I love birthdays. They are like holidays to me, and I simply adore holidays. To him, it’s just another day indicating yet another year added to his existence on this earth. To me, it’s a joyous occasion worth celebrating, and often warranting glorious fanfare, breaking out into song, and all around celebratory cheer, without hesitation or explanation. After all, is that ever really a bad thing?
I am rather generous with the duration of birthday celebrations. It’s not just your day. It’s your month. Live it up. The hubs, however, has to share his month with Valentine’s Day (which luckily is still partly about him, it does take two to tango, and this other half needs her Valentine) and now our puppy’s birthday. Not to mention my best friend’s birthday from back home. It’s steep competition for the shortest month of the year. That is why I always do my best to make at least this week a birthday extravaganza, while still remaining digestible to his anti-celebratory ways.
I began my celebratory preparations last night, which were already botched slightly before I even got home. The hubs loves key lime pie, but particularly the key lime pie from our favorite steak house restaurant, Del Frisco’s. I called ahead yesterday, placed a takeout order for a slice of the pie, and was on my way after work to pick it up when I got the call. “For the month of February the chef likes to make a chocolate tart instead,” the hostess explained, “because it’s better for Valentine’s day.” I am pretty sure I then gave her a five minute panic speech about the hubby’s birthday, and this being his favorite dessert in the whole-wide-world, pretty, pretty pleeeeeeeeease. It was verging on incredibly pathetic. But that was that. I stopped by our local fresh fair grocery store on my way home, found some lovely looking little key lime tarts, purchased two for good measure, and rushed home. Robbie was at a meeting until about 9:00pm, at which point I prepared the tart with a single candle, grabbed our puppy, and sang happy birthday to him. Of course only after telling him my sad state of pie affairs.
My hubby’s other love (besides me, of course) is gin. If we weren’t trying to be healthy and didn’t care for the state of our livers, I am pretty sure he would have a gin martini every night. Except for Master’s weekend; that is the start of gin and tonic season after all. Between golf, Scotch, and gin, I wonder sometimes why my Anglo-Saxon spouse doesn’t just up and move to the British Isles. But at least we get to visit in September (YAY! And more on this later), so that’s something. I have taken it upon myself, being the avid baker that I am, to make him Gin and Tonic cupcakes. I found a promising recipe courtesy of B.U.I Cupcakes (thank you!) that I will be attempting this weekend. Trying regular baking recipes at altitude is always a risk, but this is one worth taking. I will report back on my (keep those fingers crossed) success.
In the interim, we are off to a delightful dinner at Elway’s Steak House tonight (you know, the Denver Broncos QB that actually won the Superbowl for us… sorry Peyton, we still love you), and Robbie will have a pre-dinner cocktail using his crystal clear giant ice cubes. Oh yeah. That’s been his project this week. Try it out! He recommends boiling distilled water twice before letting it cool and transferring it to the giant ice cube trays.
So here’s to the love of my life, my best friend of 7 years, husband of almost 3, soul mate, confidant, and the greatest puppy daddy of all time. I love you so much. You are the oldest 28 year old I know, and I love you more every day!