Martin is sturdy. January 30. This is how I've remembered Martin's birthday for the past couple decades. It is a good and fitting almost-rhyme, and there are few good alternatives: Martin is burly, January thirty. Martin is a birdy, January thirty. Martin is dirty, shirty, flirty, purty. Like I said, nothing so good as sturdy--sturdy as in loyal, of course. He does rather trip over things often so he is sturdy mostly internally. Anyway. . . .
This weekend,
my dear guy turned 40. In the morning, the kids tossed him into the Sound for a cold and bracing birthday swim.
And then in the evening, we had a party. For the first time in the almost 20 years we've been married, he asked for a party--or rather, he asked for a Roast. Which I happily organized for him. We sent our kids over on the ferry to Grandma and Grandaddy's house. And indeed, he got roasted and toasted. We had lovely guests (including both my siblings and spouses--and nobody roasts you like family), silly games, an amazing 90's trivia game, a full bar thanks to our friend John, and a stage on which my sister (who also turned forty in January) and Martin sat while people hurled invective at them. Martin received plenty of nice presents, including dead flowers, a weekly pill case, antacids, denture cleanser, and best of all (delicious too), chocolate-flavored stool softener.
And he was roundly insulted. But as in such cases, he only finished the evening feeling more loved than ever. Which is a fine way to feel when you are turning 40!
He's pretty fine, though, don't you think?
This weekend,
And then in the evening, we had a party. For the first time in the almost 20 years we've been married, he asked for a party--or rather, he asked for a Roast. Which I happily organized for him. We sent our kids over on the ferry to Grandma and Grandaddy's house. And indeed, he got roasted and toasted. We had lovely guests (including both my siblings and spouses--and nobody roasts you like family), silly games, an amazing 90's trivia game, a full bar thanks to our friend John, and a stage on which my sister (who also turned forty in January) and Martin sat while people hurled invective at them. Martin received plenty of nice presents, including dead flowers, a weekly pill case, antacids, denture cleanser, and best of all (delicious too), chocolate-flavored stool softener.
And he was roundly insulted. But as in such cases, he only finished the evening feeling more loved than ever. Which is a fine way to feel when you are turning 40!
He's pretty fine, though, don't you think?
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