The Wife's Birthday

It's four o'clock. I'm not anywhere near ready for the wife's birthday. The wife will be home soon. People coming over.

I am in deep doo doo.

Her mother sent beautiful flowers.

Phew. Cross flowers off the list.

I did get champagne- Jeanine loves champagne.

The kids are cleaning up the house as I type which means each one is pointing out what the other one has not done yet. Loudly. In a few moments, I can tell a fight will erupt. More mess will be made. Why did I have children?

We have children so we can accept death, a friend said.

Accept? Try welcome.

Allan called and clearly has forgotten he is suppose to come over tonight. I cannot remember when I told people to show up.

I just looked at Jeanine's desk in the back room. I think I need to put a tarp over it. A five, a four and a three year old are coming over. Stacks of books, unopened mail and gear are all precariously balanced in a corner of the room right next to the video game gear.

Not good.

The one thing I can say?

Happy Birthday, Jeanine. I love you.