Crankcase

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

My birthday came and went, thankfully, very quietly. There are days where I do pine for a big surprise party with unexpected guests, great food and killer gifts, but generally I prefer to keep the date of my birth and the ensuing celebration on the down low. This year was no exception.

Easter dinner and the annual egg hunt at my parent's house followed by a very unceremonial opening of the gifts for my sister and me (her birthday is on the 20^th, so we pack both into one party and one cake). I say "unceremonial" because the gifts usually are opened in front of everyone and the cards read out loud for each present presented (?!). This year, my sister and I stood at a half cleared dining room table opening gifts in front of five various family members cleaning off dishes. Odd, but I guess that this is the start of things to come. Now for the gift results:

A plastic pig that poops jelly beans. For me, there's something very unsettling when you combine sugary confections with scatological references. Around Christmas time, a guy upstairs brings in a large wooden moose that performs the same faux feces act as my plastic porcine pal. As I told him and I will tell you, that thing could crap out lobster tails with drawn butter and I still wouldn't eat them. And unless the pig can eat coal and crap diamonds, I’m less than delighted with it.

Gift certificates. Roughly a hundred bucks to Homeless Depot (to be put towards a goldfish pond), another twenty to Lowe’s (which will probably be spent on stuff that HD never carries), and forty for Old Navy. I already burned through the ONav card and surprised myself with a new belt one whole pant size smaller. This is the first time in a very long while that I’ve gone down a size. The high 30’s waistline may not be too far off.

A bocce set. The case had been dropped at some point, so that’s been tossed into the return pile for now.

The Simpsons Season One. At least the Missus is in tune with me.

And the gift that keeps on giving…

A head cold. Yes, I know you could give a rat’s tokhas about my health, but it sucks to take the day off for your birthday and wake up feeling like someone crammed a wad of Gummi Bears up your nose. The Missus managed to get the day off as well and she felt about as good. So we slept in late, took in a movie (go see "The Girl Next Door" if you haven't already), had dinner, walked the mall and called it a day.