This seems to be the week of birthdays. From last Saturday until the present, everyone seems to be getting older. Although we age gradually every day, every minute, and perhaps even every fleeting second, time only stops once a year to remind us that we are now officially 365 days older.
This year the powers that be have broken the sacred tradition of only aging on one's birthday to remind me two weeks early. Last night some friends got together to play arcade games, celebrating the twins' birthdays with food, silliness, and presents.
Presents is the important part now, since it is in this tradition that my birthday intersects with theirs. Laura opened her gift first. Tamy squirmed and tried to help her open it a bit faster, which only succeeded in causing Laura to tear the paper exaggeratedly and agonizingly slowly. It was a hard drive, though the look on her face said, "What in the world is this?" Next, Ester opened her gift, a large heavy rectangular package. Once the gift was unwrapped, she looked up at us with surprise. A Spanish cookbook? "Do I really cook that bad?" she asked. Isma turned red. Guille started laughing. Apologies began to flow. I looked confused. Wrong gift? Isma took the book out of her hands and gave it to me. "Happy Birthday!" he said abashedly. I just had to laugh. Poor Ester! I suppose she'll get her gift Sunday, whereas I've received my own two weeks early. I think that Isma will survive the humiliation and shame. I hope.
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he he... good story :) have fun with the new cookbook!
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