Birthday Cake

I'm pretty much a psychological bully. Poor K., he doesn't know where to turn about this whole birthday thing. I want a cake; I don't want a cake. I want it to be white cake with plum flowers; I want a chocolate cake with raspberry filling. The poor guy.

Knowing that he sort of fell short of expectation in the birthday department the last two years, the bar was set high. And I'll admit, I think birthdays are really important. Like, as in my favorite day of the year.

Today, when I realized that I had royally confused K., I took matters in my own hands. And not because I was angry or upset or sad or disappointed. I did it because I know that my husband, as a heterosexual Republican male, probably cannot differentiate between lavender and plum (and yes, I threw in the Republican barb just for laughs). And you know what, that's okay. SHOCKING.

So he'll pick it up (honey - Publix on Friday) and I'll be happy. He makes life easy for me all the time, why not return the favor?