BIRTHDAY CHEERS TO BABIES OVER BOURBON
Give me Harry over a bottle of bourbon any day.
As my birthday ticked nearer and plans for the day were laid, I couldn't help smile to myself as I began to plan my perfect birthday.
How perfection for me has changed over the years.
What once would have been a night drinking to oblivion and wondering post birthday why my right knee hurt so much and how I ended up with a stamp on my hand from a nightclub I'd never heard of, has turned into a pathetic soppy kind of happiness.
The kind of happiness that would make a passer by do a little vomit in their mouth.
The kind of happiness that I once believed was fictional - created by writers to make an overwhelming portion of the population feel inadequate and discontent with their lives.
The kind of happiness that when described, is greeted with a roll of the eyes, a raised eyebrow and an unwillingness to believe that anyone could derive that much satisfaction from a movie, a home cooked meal, and a baby.
Having ascertained the face you are most likely to exhibit upon reading this, perhaps take a moment now to breath, relax, and loosen those tightly constricted facial muscles.
It is really not that hard to believe.
Never have presents been so fun to open, than with the clumsy help of 10 podgy little baby boy fingers.
Never have I felt like I have accomplished more in a year, than now with the little life I created looking up at me from the floor.
Never has a birthday night been so enjoyable, than with my two boys to cuddle, a glass of wine to sip, a movie I couldn't stay awake for...
...and let's not forget a baby that sleeps through the night.
Cheers to another year.
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