Yes, you English grammar snobs, I do know "bestest" is not proper, but heck, it's my blog and my birthday so I'll cry...err, misspell if I want to.
Ok, enough of that silliness, my birthday began in a wonderful manner. Allow me to explain (cue transition music).
It started like any other morning. I rose from my bed, groggy and grumpy, thanked the Lord for His goodness and faithfulness (which washed away a good measure of my bad attitude), and walked downstairs to exercise before reading and cooking breakfast. My workout finished, I proceeded upstairs to stare into my practically empty fridge and wonder aloud, "Why is there nothing to eat?" A usually untrue statement in America. Nevertheless, I managed to whip up a batch of pancakes and soon enough my children and I were sitting at the table enjoying flapjacks and good company.
Then the phone rang. My friend had called to wish me a happy day of my birth and we began our usual lengthy discourse. During this time, my two sons covertly transformed the living room into a festive dwelling few could deny as absolutely extraordinary--especially considering their ages (4 and 5). In a matter of fifteen minutes, the two had carried in the children's plastic picnic table from the deck, pulled a comforter from their bed to serve as a tablecloth, decorated the walls and furniture with easter eggs and stuffed animals, while providing entertainment with a puppet show, slight of hand magic trick, and my favorite board game "Mystery Mansion." To top that (I know, how can you?), the two scoured the house to find items from my childhood. They presented me a box overflowing with nostalgia: a cowgirl hat from my youth, a stuffed dog I had long ago named Cuddles, and my childhood detective kit (or all the pieces the two could find).
If my day would have decided to turned into a Grinch-style birthday, I doubt it would have phased me. The Lord used the wonder, joy and compassion of children to give me one of the bestest (shhh!) birthdays I have ever had.
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