Happy Birthday Honey!

This week’s post by staff writer Frank Friedlander outlines possible pitfalls in planning a birthday celebration for a pregnant wife. Happy wife equals a happy life! Enjoy!

 

So my wife’s birthday is tomorrow, her 30th birthday. Remember, my pregnant hormonal wife? Yup.  Same one. It’s been my task to come up with a celebratory event of sorts with our friends. This may not sound like a particularly difficult task, but it’s more complicated than it sounds. First off, there’s the whole pregnancy thing, which limits the options right off the bat. Anything alcohol related is off the table. Granted it doesn’t have to be, only for her though. “Happy 30th dearest, here’s the keys.” Is there any better way to celebrate a milestone birthday than being given the opportunity to act as the designated driver? If there is, I’d better start thinking of them.

 

I suppose that a, eloquent, white table-cloth bistro is still an option, and the fact that she wouldn’t be able to order a few $12.99 glasses of wine, which contents are virtually identical than those in a $3.99 bottle of wine at Trader Joe’s will minimize the bill. Can you tell that I’m not exactly a wine connoisseur? It all tastes like rancid grape juice to me. Oh yeah, it will be three couples with four kids, aged three months to three years, none of which can drive, so that’s another complication. Eloquent, white tablecloth bistro is off the table. They tend to frown upon toddlers drawing on their white tablecloths. Maybe we can stack them on top of each other and throw a trench coat over them. It never fails to get Scooby Doo on the airplane.

 

“It’s not about what we do.” She says. “It’s about whom it’s with,” she adds. How many men have actually taken that advice throughout history and had it work out in their favor? I’m going to guess that there haven’t been too many of them. It’s a milestone. You only turn 30 once, unless you take the word of most women who were born 40-45 years ago who are on their 15th, 30th birthday. After that, they tend to reluctantly move on to a decade or two of 35th birthdays.

So back on track. I have the gift, and I have the card. I suppose I’ll end up picking up some flowers, despite the fact that I’ve already voiced my opinion on that little cliché, but until someone is brave enough to stand up to it, what choice do we have? So now it comes down to the event. It wasn’t too long ago that she expressed a craving for Pad Thai. Splendid. I know a great Thai restaurant not too far away. It’s fairly spacious, so that’s great for the toddlers. Reservation for six adults, a baby, and a cage large enough for 3 toddlers has been made. I know it’s living on the edge, because in the case of first trimester pregnasaurus, a craving can become an aversion at a moment’s notice. Wish me luck.

 


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