Yesterday was The Boy I Currently Like's birthday. This ends my nine-day run as a cradle robber/mini-cougar (I didn't have the heart to tell him that, as I'm in my 30s, I'm apparently a puma, not a cougar).
This was the first time we'd spent one of our birthdays together, if I recall correctly (and I might very well not). The Boy doesn't like to think his birthday weekend is any different than any other weekend. I tried to do what I could to celebrate. I mean, obviously, I got him presents (that's getting easier with every gift-giving holiday). I bought him dinner (that's the spin I put on it, because I damn near had to beg to pay for half of dinner). I made cupcakes for him, gave him 36 spankings (he's never heard of "and a pinch to grow an inch, and a sock to grow a block!" Is that a Minnesota duck, duck, gray-duck sort of thing?) and did other random things to try to make the day a little more special. He seemed to have a pretty good night.
You see, he deserves a big to-do for his birthday, in my opinion. He's pretty goddamn incredible. When I think about it, I'm always a little floored by the randomness of the circumstances that led to us meeting. Never in a million years did I imagine we'd end up here when we started e-mailing three years ago.
I'm an awfully lucky girl to know such a great guy. And I'm so very glad I know him.