You smell like a bear, but I don’t care

Join me in a rousing off-tune round of Happy Birthday as we wish the wild haired Gab a fabulous Number Two! (and that’s not poo, people…i do wish every second of the day she would go that genre of fabulous number two in the john, but it ain’t happenin’ any time soon)

Nice. I incorporated the mention of feces into Gab’s birthday wishes. I am just that type of mom.

Ok. Let’s get it together. Gab turns two years old today! Hooray!

Thus far, she has celebrated the occasion with many burnt strips of bacon, some tooth rotting juice, and multiple attempts at suffocating her twin siblings with too much Gab lovin’. Just another typical day.

While we’ll have a few cupcakes and open a present or two this afternoon, the big shindig will be this Sunday with a houseful of elderly couples and our own kids. See, we don’t know anyone ’round these here parts with young ‘uns. So, same as last year, Gab will once again celebrate her birthday in the company of the over 65 crowd. They are a wild, rockin’ bunch, I must say. I’ll be sure and post some pics for you so you’ll know I’m not lying nor exaggerating. We are an odd bunch, I admit. I commented to E last night (I say this a lot…”I commented to E last night”…”I was commenting to E last night”…I think that should be the title of my daily useless opinion column…and, of course, Grandy, my autobiography will be entitled Are You Sh!tting Me?…dang, there I go again getting off track). Yeh, so he was lamenting over how we don’t have friends with kids for such occasions. I reminded him, “Hey, who needs other people’s kids when we can make plenty of our own?!”

Oh, and a slight problem we need to solve before Sunday. Along with Gav’s paternal grandparents, my dad and stepmom, E’s parents, we’ve also invited the elderly Pakistani couple from across the street. They’re the only friendly people on our whole damn block. The man (hmm, see where i’m going with this yet?) brought me some beautiful pink roses last week to welcome the twins. They are always bringing over yummy dishes to eat. The man (the man…any closer to figuring out my dilemma?) dabbles in photography and has taken some great photos of Gab. He’s bringing his camera to get some birthday party shots and hopefully score some good pix of the twins. Our dilemma (and this shows how much we suck)…we don’t know their names. And, I’m all stressed over introducing everyone and not looking like a jacka$$, “And, these are our very friendly Pakistani across the street neighbors. We like them so much, why bother with names?” We’ve even gotten their mail for them when they’re on extended trips out of the country. But, I can’t, for the life of me, come up with either of their names. In the same vein though, I’m sure they don’t know/remember our names either. We’re just “Hey!” and “Hi there!” to each other.

Pulling this train back in the station, Happy Birthday, Sweet Gab!!!