Happy Birthday to the person who first ever shook my certainty of my position as center of the universe, that sweet, shy baby who burst into our lives when I was a tender three years old. I’m sorry I kicked you endlessly when we shared a bed and that I blamed you for the kittens-on-the-trampoline incident. Although, I think you came off best with your role in many of our pretends. (from my journal: We’re playing shipwrecked; I am a queen and Marcy is a princess and Brad is a dog). I used to think it was great that I would always be older than you, but now I realize that isn’t the best thing in the world.
Hope you enjoy Hawaii in a few months. (I have the utmost faith in your willpower, no matter how utterly ridiculous I think the object of said willpower is). If you do change your mind and decide to go somewhere cool, like Prince Edward Island, invite me along, okay?
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I would like to go to PEI sometime. I have to start somewhere–I’ve only been to England and parts of the US on a trip back East, remember. I have a friend who has a goal to go to a new country every year. They hiked Mt. Kilimanjaro and visited the Amazon, etc. etc. Now they’re having their first child so they might have to slow down a bit, but it’s an awesome goal if you like seeing new places. I want to go somewhere safe first and relatively hassle-free.
And thanks for the wonderful birthday dinner the other day. Looking forward to my lip balm….