Happy Birthday B! or Why I Suck
So Thursday was Brendan's birthday. This was my plan: After work, go grab something pretty to get it on in, then meet up with G & A and have sushi, then go maybe have a drink or two, come home. get it on. This is what happened. Since I had to go get something pretty to wear, i told B he should go have a drink with his buddy from work. So he did. It took me forever. Talked to G&A, and A wound up having to work. So I finally met up with B about 8:30 and asked him where he wanted to go for dinner. Initially, he thought I was getting him a present so he wouldn't shut up about "what'd ya get me?" all the way to the car. So when we got in I said, "Ok, close your eyes and hold out your hands" and he did and I placed my purse in his hands and said "Here. Hold my purse while I drive". I finally convinced him I didn't get him a present but since I was "doing secret birthday stuff" until 8:30, he assumed that i was setting up a surprise party for him somewhere so he was all excited.
Me: Where do you want to eat?
B: Wherever you are going to take me for my surprise party
Me: You don't have a surprise party
B: That's why it is a surprise
Me: Where do you want to eat?
B: Whataburger
Me: I am not taking you to Whataburger for your birthday
B: That's where I want to go.
Me: Ok
So I drove to Whataburger.
B: (sadly) We are really going to eat at Whataburger??
So we got some burgers and headed home where B got the brilliant idea that maybe I used dinner as an excuse to let our friends into our apartment and surprise him. So when he got home, he ran through the house, flinging open all the doors in hopes of finding our friends ready to scream "surprise!". Nothing. He even got on the floor and pried open the dogs mouth to see if maybe somehow I'd managed to fit our entire group of friends into our dog's belly.
After we finished eating, I got the worst gas pains in the history of the world and laid in the fetal position for the remainder of the evening. No lingerie. No getting it on. Nothing, except an occasional toot. I thought, that's ok. We can do it this weekend, but B was too drunk on Friday night and then the virus I had last week finally reared its ugly head and now he's all sick.
So happy birthday, B. You get a sucky, gassy girlfriend and a miserable week-long virus.
Me: Where do you want to eat?
B: Wherever you are going to take me for my surprise party
Me: You don't have a surprise party
B: That's why it is a surprise
Me: Where do you want to eat?
B: Whataburger
Me: I am not taking you to Whataburger for your birthday
B: That's where I want to go.
Me: Ok
So I drove to Whataburger.
B: (sadly) We are really going to eat at Whataburger??
So we got some burgers and headed home where B got the brilliant idea that maybe I used dinner as an excuse to let our friends into our apartment and surprise him. So when he got home, he ran through the house, flinging open all the doors in hopes of finding our friends ready to scream "surprise!". Nothing. He even got on the floor and pried open the dogs mouth to see if maybe somehow I'd managed to fit our entire group of friends into our dog's belly.
After we finished eating, I got the worst gas pains in the history of the world and laid in the fetal position for the remainder of the evening. No lingerie. No getting it on. Nothing, except an occasional toot. I thought, that's ok. We can do it this weekend, but B was too drunk on Friday night and then the virus I had last week finally reared its ugly head and now he's all sick.
So happy birthday, B. You get a sucky, gassy girlfriend and a miserable week-long virus.
posted by Crystal at 7:07 AM
4 Comments:
I'll bet he's happy y'all are engaged. He gets the same thing every year from now on... until one year when the gassiness is hot flashes.
That having been said, though, he got more than I expect from my wife for my birthday on Sunday.
Again, I must side with Thomas on the matter of you epic postings. Perhaps you should post an optional abridged version for those of us with shorter attention spans.
haha, shit like that happens to the best of us... i can remember nights like that with dougy. oh well, he still loves you and you'll be able to get it on as soon as he's healthy... hey, doesn't sex MAKE you healthy?!
No dummy, sex makes you pregnant. duh.
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