Today is Pete’s [can you guess which number] birthday. He can never remember how old he is. He asked me last week how old he was. He was pumped to find out that he was 26 because for some time now he’d thought he was 27. Now he had a whole extra year of life! Except that he turned 27 today.
Last year I made him a Canucks cake, old school jersey. This year, no cake. Turns out, he doesn’t even like cake!
We went to the Rathskellar German Schnitzel House for supper. I had Cordon Blue Schnitzel. He had Jaegar Schnitzel. It was Schnitzelriffic. The music was very german and very loud. It is one of Peter’s favourite restaurants and I pretty much always refuse to go there. I’m just not that into red cabbage. But I knew that if we went tonight it would make him very happy.
Then I had planned that we would go to Hermann’s Jazz Club for the Tom Vicary Trio. I’ve never heard of them. I’ve never been to that club before. But I thought it would be sweet, and a lot better than going to the movies. We always go to the movies. I was sure that the Trio started at 7, but it turns out they started at 8, and we just weren’t all that into waiting so we walked around downtown and talked and were silly and I bet people thought that we were two young kids on a date.
They have no idea we have a toddler at home and have been married 3.5 years. Although Pete was sure that we’d been married only 2.5. He said I can’t blame him, he can’t even remember his own age.
So Happy Birthday Pete, you 27-year-old rascal. I love our silly world that no one could ever understand, our crazy life, all your philosophies (well most of them… some I could do without!) and how no one can talk me to sleep like you can.