According to my work schedule, it will be my birthday from 6-7 a.m. this morning. That's pretty astounding, because I'm pretty sure I was born at around 6:48 in the morning of May 2nd in 1982. That, however, was Pacific Time, so my birthday SHOULD have been from 8-9 a.m. But really, I don't know how the scheduling department could have been expected to know any of that.
Hey, you know what's scary? A Chick-Fil-A play-place around lunch hour. Especially when you're the only adult in the room. They gotta find a way to make those places more sound-absorbent. Not a good place to be if you already have a three-day-old headache. At least they don't have ball pits. I remember loving ball pits. Now, I can't help but think how unbelievably dangerous they could potentially be. Transition from child to parent, I suppose.
Robbie is very excited that it's my birthday. He wanted birthday cake for dinner. We had to tell him there was no cake until tomorrow (today). He didn't like that answer. He also wants to know what kind of cake we're having on his birthday.
Really, though, I expect this to be one of those "just another day" birthdays. The party-type situation will come Tuesday. And I'll count Iron Man 2 as the world's birthday present to me when it comes out next week.
Thanks, the world. It's just what I wanted!