Around here, birthdays don’t involve a lot of monetary hoopla or fancy fanfare. But they do involve lots of whispering, planning, and giggling. My man, the same boy who kissed me in high school, was the subject of the secret birthday mission this weekend…
From a dozen birthday ducks tucked (i.e. inside cowboy boots and the underwear drawer) and dangled (i.e. in the shower and the kitchen) throughout the house
to a brick wrapped in plastic and tucked inside a box (ya know, to disguise the real gift by being tricky about its real weight)
to a surprise visit from his dad to a hike
(oh yeah, another one of those up, up, up huffing-n-puffing hikes)
that landed atop a hillside as the dense trees gave way to lush grass and huge views
to a lasagna dinner and goopy smore pie
(that followed chocolate banana cake and hot cocoa for breakfast and nachos for lunch)
to remembering that six years prior we both were born-again on my husband’s birthday
(which was also Easter Sunday)–a lot of meaning and Truth is now forever tucked into the gift of that day
While the kid and his grandpa were racing about the lush hillside and the old dog was panting heavy nearby, I was sitting next to my love. I was actually regaining my breath and gulping water. He looked at the two ginormous pine trees and asked what I thought about climbing them.
I squinted over my shoulder and said, “I will, just a second.”
To which he said, “Not you, me.”
With raised eyebrows and a tad bit of mockery, I said, “Oh, I see. You really think you can do it? I better show you how.”
Of course to this statement he merely up and ran off, leaving me there munching raisins.
Oh wait for me, this could be a kodak-moment!
I grab the camera and catch up to him. “Baby, if you fall I will…go get some help as fast as I can. You will just lay there. I can leave your dad with ya. But I am taking the dogs, you know cuz of the bears.”
[oh, if only you could have heard the guttural grunting and desperate foot scraping
and leather gripping the big ole once-lonely tree]
As I wrangle camera from bag and scoot way back, I hear,
“Hey mom. What is daddy doing?” “Daddddyyy, what are you doing? Can I come?”
To which the grandpa and the mamma yell simultaneously, “Move back! What if the branch breaks?! You don’t want to get squashed!”
Daddio (as I say)
and Dad-a-reen-o (as the kids says),
You ‘Da Man!
You ‘Da Birthday Man!
Now get down here before you make me run for help…
you are much to big for me to drag by the ankle all the way home.
*please note, all food was organic, whole wheat and divinely healthy–in case you got to thinking otherwise…ha! the chef (uh, that would be me) is a vegan (and a raw food vegan at that). my boys eata what i’maka. so although my animal-eating husband would have likely preferred a bit o’ critter in his meal, i have to draw the birthday generosity somewhere.
whether or not you wanted to know that bit of our culinary life, i don’t know. but if you are inclined to make some healthy food and/or combat illness or disease, please consider changing your diet. although i haven’t posted much recently at my healthy eating/living blog, please go there for some ideas, recipes, facts, and links. and yes, i am qualified to write on such matters… 😉