My husband celebrated his 50th birthday last week.
On Thursday night, I threw him a surprise happy hour at one of our favorite local bars. People from all different parts of his life just kept walking through the doors.
Unexpectedly. And he felt tremendously loved.
Which is how I wanted him to feel.
Today is my husband’s 50th birthday.
Fifty is kind of old. I mean, for a husband of mine to be.
I’m only 47. His trophy wife.
If you and I were out to dinner, and I repeatedly kicked you under the table with my clunky hard wedges, what would you think I was doing?
I did something last weekend that I never, ever do. That goes against every bone in my body. (And no, it's not some Tantric sex thing.)
I arrived in a town without a hotel reservation for the weekend.
Ay Dios mio.
Or as my people would say: Oy vey.
I don’t have a drinking problem. Sure I like my vodka, club soda and pomegranate cocktail(s) on Thursday nights. My husband usually has one ready for me after my kids get picked up by their father for their sleep-over at his house. I sip it while I get ready to go out on Date Night....
I know I said that I wasn’t going to do any traveling for a while. But I guess that I’m a big fat liar. My husband’s birthday is today. And, last week, when I asked him what he wanted to do, he said he wanted to go away. Guess last year’s stay-at-home celebration was too...