Monday, October 3, 2011

Happy Birthday, Chris

Smalls Cove as seen at high tide, on my blissfully solo walk

Dear Husband -

On the dirt road to Indian Point
Today on your birthday the boys used every spare minute and ounce of energy they had to bicker with one another.  When they ran out of energy, they sucked mine out through my skull and used it instead.  They bickered for good reasons, for imagined reasons, for boredom.  They yelled at each other for talking, for making funny noises, and for yelling.  They yelled at each other for being loud.  One of them napped, the other refused, and then one of them threw up.

I tell you all this because, despite the lovely walks and beautiful scenery you'll see in this post, you should consider that just possibly your birthday was a happier one for being in San Antonio surrounded by business people.  Sure, they're just as whiny as our children, but you can walk away from their whining and they will not follow you on their scooter, whining all the way.  Or, if they do, you can walk straight into the hotel bar for a cold glass of moxy.

We miss you, and I know we all missed having cake today.  But we'll have one for you on Friday night, and if there is a god in heaven, these children will be well rested for your return, and all we'll have to show for their rotten eggs is this blog post.
Griffin carrying Quinn's vest for me


Your Wife

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