Sunday, Chrisapalooza was kicked off with drinks and the first of "our" gifts. Actually, it was a little like Hanukkah as every day offered a new surprise. The first surprise was mugs for each of us. Lovely Asian inspired mugs...with holes strategically placed for straws. We were touched. Nothing says adult beverage like sipping it out of a porcelain Buddha/panda.
Monday our friends dropped off bottles...carefully hidden in ribbon tied brown paper bags. BROWN PAPER BAGS. The hidden meaning became clear. SIZE DOES MATTER. And yes, his birthday, HE drank it. (take note of my UNOPENED bottle, awaiting MY birthday...I AM the model of restraint).
Tuesday brought us special gifts. REQUESTED gifts. You scratch mine, I'll scratch yours...ahem...
Wednesday, as our friends dropped off our middle daughter from dance, we were given yet another gift with the message: We can't remember whose is whose. Uh...right... HE got the big one...(no, I'll refrain from the standard response)
Thursday, the theme became apparent again. Still, I'm sure my big toe, on one foot, would appreciate a 2 minute massage. Or maybe my earlobes?
But Friday...today...well, imagine my surprise at returning from shopping (YES...birthday shopping) to be greeted with, what I initially thought was a sign for a garage sale at the top of our road, off the main county road, which many of our friends travel daily, a blown up Chrisapalooza sign. And then a second at the corner of our yard. I haven't yet determined how many of these signs there are about town.
As I suspected, there was also one placed to maximize the exposure and incite some recognition of the birthday boy when we attend a local Wine Tasting fundraiser tonight.
I'm anxious to see how this all ends. Regardless, it has been one hell of a ride!
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