Hippo, Birdie, Two Ewes

I have just celebrated my birthday.

It was wonderful. Finally. A wonderful birthday. Being a year older notwithstanding.

No drama from J. No crap to contend with. Last year I returned his gifts for cash to reimburse myself for something he'd welshed on. Couldn't even look at them knowing what he'd done. Enough said.

This year, Scott had the whole thing covered. Thoughtfully, lovingly covered.

Lovely card. Handwritten sentiment. Gotta love a guy who will pick up a pen once in a while instead of letting Hallmark do all the heavy lifting.

Gift card to my spa - pamper myself any way I want while he waits to take my fabulous new self out for drinks. Beautification and cocktails. A winning hand.

Cool gear for my car - something no one but me would want, but something I'd mentioned I'd wanted to get to make my cool car even cooler. Right up Scott's alley for sure.

And then, on the evening of my birthday, we could go anywhere I want for dinner. Any. Where.

But first we'd return to a little artisan jewelry shop nearby where I'd admired so many things that day we'd walked around in the rain and sipped coffee and lingered in shops while my car got inspected and the Toyota guy tried to sell me a set of $13 spark plugs for $450 claiming "there is a lot of complicated labor involved." Really? Am I driving the Space Shuttle?

Scott wanted me to pick something that I love for him to buy for me.

How fun!

I tried on tons of things. Rings and cuffs, and bangles and necklaces. I looked at case after case of interesting designs and one-of-a-kind pieces. I would have thought I was driving the shopkeeper to distraction but she so loved the artists I gravitated toward that she was happy to explain each artist's heart when she showed each piece.

In the end, I chose, with Scott's help, a lovely silver cable and fresh water pearl tandem necklace with a beautifully designed enhancer made of silver. It had an additional embellishment not unlike Lagos' caviar at the bottom, from which dangles a lovely, larger freshwater pearl. Unique. Perfect. It is as lovely as my memories of the day. I will wear it "til the wheels fall off.

And though I'd thought for a long time that then I'd drag Scott off to some swanky new restaurant featured in the magazine Kate sells ads for, and that she has raved about, I was suddenly more interested in the familiar.

I asked if he'd be too disappointed if we pointed the car toward home and simply stopped in to our local pub for a couple of pints and our favorite sandwiches while the vocalist croons and Major League Baseball plays on all the TVs on mute.

He had been hoping I'd say just that. Yay me.

And now, I am wishing that the next birthday on the list, Patrick's, were going to be so easy.

We have already established that the surprise pet was nearly a boondoggle, so I am nervous about surprises. He's hinted at a few things, but what he really wants I won't get. I simply can't bring myself to get him yet another gaming system to complement the 4 he already has (1 at my house, 3 at Lars's)

So here he is - about to turn 13 - which as you might recall is a pretty big hairy deal when you are the one becoming a teenager, and I have no idea what to do to make it special.

I have less than a week to figure this out and my creativity is "on the fritz" (to quote my very quotable mother).

I am smoothing my Mother of the Year apron and getting down to business.