Feeds:my forty-second birthday
"I just don't want the cats to turn into birds and then explode." -Claire, 2025-03-03
Frankie said, "Here's a thought. How many roads must a man walk down?"
"Ah!" said Benjy. "Aha, now that does sound promising!" He rolled the phrase around a little. "Yes," he said, "that's excellent! Sounds very significant without actually tying you down to meaning anything at all. How many roads must a man walk down? Forty-two. Excellent, excellent, that'll fox 'em. Frankie, baby, we are made!"
They performed a scampering dance in their excitement.
I had to do a little quick arithmetic to figure out which birthday I am experiencing, but once I did I knew exactly which quote I wanted to memorialize it with. I had this leisure because this is the first birthday in over a decade that I'm not at work. Not from any planning on my part, I just have Wednesdays off. I think we'll go to the Green City Market and eat crêpes. Perhaps later I'll bake an angelfood cake or some brownies.
Though I'd better change first, I'm dressed all wrong for the farmer's market, those things are very informal, and I'm still wearing my suit. It's my birthday, I'm in my birthday suit.