last year i made these for chuck's birthday. it was super hilarious since, at the time, i didn't even know i had a kitchen. or that those jeans still fit me. or why i hadn't lost that sweater on purpose in a steaming manhole. anyway, i'm just posting the same photo this year. last year it was angel food cupcakes, this year the angel food cake is still cooling upside down in the kitchen. close enough. you get the idea.
today is chuck's birthday. he is 35. i find his lax approach to his birthday deplorable. on monday he conceded, with a half-assed exclamation point: "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WEEK!"
it concerns me that he doesn't realize that this is his birthday month, or that winter is his birthday season. that he has never even jokingly suggested -- in the height of whisky-soaked hubris -- that perhaps the reason the neighbors are hanging lights and decorating trees, mauling cheese balls, baking bourbon-saturated desserts, making out with each other under a plant, is all just to recognize another year of his life's accomplishments.
i totally would. i have. i'm the reason you get to waterski and eat bratwursts over labor day weekend. d
we drove up to cub foods for a bundt pan tonight. his presents were wrapped and in the back seat. he tossed nary a sidelong glance toward the treasures, and seemed to want to wait until it felt more like wednesday and less like tuesday night to open them. i tried to goad him: "THERE ARE PRESENTS IN THIS CAR!" i squealed. i clapped.
he was a vision of self control. me? i'd have ripped into that shit with my teeth the second i smelled the scotch tape.
it's a wonder we even have anything to talk about. [my birthday, for the record, is 262 days away. we'll break that down into minutes the first time duluth cracks 60 degrees this spring].
anyway: i got him a punching bag and gloves which i hid in his own basement. this had me in a mad panic when i was making his cake and he said "i think i might have a mixer in the basement. want me to go look?"
the echo from my "NO!" just bounced off the grand canyon and is on its way back here now.
finally i just made him open his present because i couldn't stand the suspense for one more second. and i could practically hear the thing in the basement cooing "look at me! look at me! i'm for punching."
don't forget about his co-party.
he seemed to develop an immediate attachment to the gloves. he fell asleep wearing them in his graduation photo pose.