Simple Pleasures

Yesterday my family celebrated my birthday. It was a small affair, because, let’s face it, one you hit your mid-thirties, very few people give two hoots about your birthday. In fact, the last time an adult is truly the center of attention is when he becomes a parent for the first time. After that, it’s all about the kids. Rotten kids, stealing all my spotlight.

So anyway, we did lunch at Applebee’s, taking advantage of their all-you-can-eat soup-and-salad deal for $7.99, which we discovered earlier this year as a great way to have lunch out without consuming vast amounts of grease. I don’t kid myself that their chili and their salad dressings are on a dietician’s list of most-desirable foods, but I’m fairly convinced it’s a better choice than a hamburger at Burger King.

After lunch, presents were forthcoming. My son Arthur generously gave me one of his own toys, a Curious George handheld pinball game. However, he still expects me to share. Arthur and Abigail together gave me a wooden brainteaser, one of those things where you have to get the wood block out of the interconnected blocks, and who knows but that there may be a metal ring down inside that I have to unlock before my mind simply implodes upon itself.

Veronica gave me Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on DVD, so the first three movies are no longer alone on my video shelf. An attending relative bestowed Subway gift cards upon me, and a little loving cash. Most of the cash will go straight to bills (or rather a single bill, or rather part of a single bill, but every little bit helps), though I am using a little of it as an actual birthday gift by placing an order for the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack CD.

Birthdays are no longer about piles of presents, and a birthday cake, and tons of guests, and a seemingly endless day of attention. But I am a happy man with a wife and kids and a Subway gift card. And that is what matters.