And I’ll Cry If I Want To

Its my birthday. Woo-hoo. Happy Birthday to me I got…..a cold and allergies that are killing me. The cold medicine here doesn’t seem to work as well as the ones at home. I’m hacking and sneezing and my eyes are so swollen it looks like I got punched by Mike Tyson wearing pink eye laced gloves. So yes, I will cry, or at least leak if I want to. That being said it was a pretty good birthday for being away from home.


I got a ridiculous amount of facebook happy birthdays ( I know every one does but it was still nice) and our Irish friends bought me a beer at lunch when we went out after Emmet and their daughter played all morning. Also I got a couple of really nice gifts.


The wife bought me the biggest, shiniest, coolest stainless steel wok I’ve ever seen. I’ve been doing a lot of stir fry and Asian meals since we’ve been here. I know big surprise isn’t it? But that’s what’s available ingredient wise. She knew it was only a matter of time before I bought one. She also knew that I would not spend the kind of money she spent on this one. I would buy an OK wok. She bought a badass one. It came with a steamer rack and a cover with an adjustable vent. Have I said its pretty cool?


Also I found out the E is very much already “a guy” when it comes to gift giving. Apparently when they were out and mommy told him they were getting a birthday present my me he insisted on picking one out from him as well. Emmet got for me an air pump and a very, very shiny bright red soccer ball. His reasoning was simple, straightforward, and very guy like. “If daddy has a new ball he can play soccer ball man with me all day”. See like I said a guy. Its like buying lingerie for your wife for Christmas. Yes its very pretty and feminine, but its really a gift for yourself. Yet it was also very endearing at the same time. I love that he gets excited about our time together.


Now if I could only get this sickness behind me we could go out there and kick the footy around, as our Aussie friends on the playground are trying to teach Emmet to call it.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: