Is it a good day . . . or a bad day?
Well, I, for one, can say that this year it's a good day. Why? Because it's my birthday! Woo, hoo!
I was born on a Sunday - you know the poem: "the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay." But my siblings would always tell me that I was born on Friday the 13th!
I'm ***cough!***54***cough!*** this year! And not ashamed of it!
I was considering something like this to celebrate with:
A few days ago I said to Mister "About my birthday . . . ", and he gruffly cut in with "Get whatever you want!". You see, he hates buying gifts, for anyone. Which doesn't bother me in the least - I'd rather get my own and be happy with it! So I told him I'm going to Michael's craft store - he has no idea what he's in for, hee, hee!