Tuesday, August 15, 2017

August 15 – “Happy birthday to me”

You know, there’s not a much better birthday than to wake up next to my best friend.  Maybe a close second was yesterday when a good friend walked in our front door.  Not while we were still in bed glorying in our incredibly blessed situation of being married to each other, though.  This would be later when we were both awake and getting ready for a birthday hike.  This friend walked over to my desk and dropped on it a pair of Astros tickets.  Yup.  Versus the Rangers, too.  Nice.

I still had to get some work done yesterday, so I did a lot of multi-tasking.  I did my best to respond to all the FaceBook posts from friends and family.  Everyone seemed to have a good time when I asked what it was I was supposed to do now that I was 64.  I got quite the list.  Very first one was skydiving.  Tempting, to be sure.  Except maybe for all the slipped and ruptured discs in my back and neck.  The five mile run was an interesting recommendation, but the accompanying encouragement to “then act like it never happened” confused me.  Do I forget the run or the birthday?  “Party like it’s 1979” sounded like fun, but then I’d have to remember what it was like to party back with a two-year-old in the house.  Some of the items that are apparently must-haves now are a life alert bracelet so I can say “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” (Always wanted one of those), an elevated toilet seat, a shower seat, and plenty of Metamucil (personally I prefer bacon cheeseburgers as a fine source of fiber).  I was encouraged to get a handicapped sticker for parking, go for ice cream, and get a PhD.  I’ll need to work on my stories of how tough things were when I was growing up.  Trekking up these treacherous sand dunes was certainly a challenge for me.  Oh, and one of the late-night additions took a moment or two to sink in … “ask your wife if she still needs you and feeds you.”  Ponder that for a moment, then access your music files.  Really old music files.  As in “Will ya still need me, will ya still feed me, when I’m 64.”  Still nothing?  You’re too young.  Google it.  I guess my favorite of all admonitions were the ones along the lines of … “Wake up one more day.”

We had a birthday party for DadDad last night.  Sleepover with 6 of the 10 grandkids.  Pizza first, then chocolate cake.  Then presents.  Goofy glasses with a big nose and moving moustache and eyebrows.  Everybody said I looked like Uncle Jay.  Maybe I should post a photo.  Then a new tape measure.  Can’t find mine.  Then all three of the Vaughan boy families got together and gave me something I have been wanting for a long time … an electric hedge trimmer.  Can’t wait to use it.  Oh, and there was the duck call chorus.  That showed up off and on.  Still happening this morning, in fact. 

Well, guess it’s time for the donut man to slither away and return in all his glory with the morning sugar fix.  Then it’s back to their parents to work it off.  Chris, you will be hard-pressed to beat this one on Thursday.  I love my job.

1 Peter 3:8-9 says, “Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.  Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.”


Father, thank you for the many friends and family who wished me well.  Thanks for the youngsters who came to my sleepover, too.  Amen.

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