If I were one of the cool kids who had high-speed internet access, I’d download a video of the Beatles singing “Birthday” and post it here. If I could find one, that is.
But since sometimes – sometimes – my dial-up access hits the blazing speed of 26400bps, I think I’ll just plant that earworm and move on. It would take until my next birthday to download the damned thing.
I spent my birthday yesterday driving home from Ohio, where my husband and I met our triplet grandsons for the first time. All together now: Awwwww. One is home; the others are still in NICU but should be home soon.
I took my running gear with me but never managed to use it. I even remembered the Garmin this time. To make up for sitting on my ass holding babies all weekend, I ate extremely cleanly, eschewing bagels and donuts, requesting a bacon-free salad with oil and vinegar on the side (twice!) and substituting an extra order of grilled asparagus for the rice side dish that came with my cracked pepper salmon at dinner last night.
I just about broke my arm patting myself on the back.
Birthdays don’t have to be about overindulging in sugary cake or fat-laden dinners. And at my age, it probably makes more sense to eat healthfully than to eat crap. I figure I wouldn’t be where I am now if I’d been more careful on the previous 56 birthdays.
Oh, and all those other days in between.