Thursday was my day. Actually beginning Wednesday night through Friday was my 2 days.
In case you haven't heard. I had a birthday. That's right. I can no longer claim I am a teenager in grad school. I just lost 10 notches of my coolness factor.
The celebration began Wednesday night. I get home from work and my apartment door is locked. I know some of my roommates were home so a red flag goes up. I put my key in, turn, and nothing happens. I take my key out, try again, and nothing. Then, all of a sudden the door FLINGS open and my head gets covered with a blanket! I am thrown into a car and told not to ask questions, or my sister Mallory Maloney will get it (my roommates really like my sister's married name). So we drive around for a while, and my kidnappers take a few wrong turns, get a few phone calls, and then the car stops. I am taken out and led into a building where I hear dishes clinking and people talking. The hands are taken from my eyes and I see my roommates and few of our close friends at IHOP.
I have the best roommates.
The next day (Thursday, my actual birthday) I stayed in bed til noon. What a luxury. When I got home from work the PARTY began. I had a cake with sparklers on it, we made a beautiful work of art, got COVERED in paint, and ran around the neighborhood until we found sprinklers to run through. Then, we topped it all off with a birthday cake that looked like a hot air balloon! Cool? I think yes. Here is the eye witness account:
Then Friday rolled around and it was time to see my family!!! Or at least 4 members of it.
Then Friday rolled around and it was time to see my family!!! Or at least 4 members of it.
And we ran through sprinklers,
And built castles,
And read books,
And took a ride on the polar express,
And played the day away.
Best birthday week, ever.
