My husband's birthday was this week, and I felt a little sheepish that he only had three presents to open, one of which was a box of cereal (family tradition). The other two were some socks and a test sampler of 15 teeny-tiny cologne vials, he's still trying to identify his manly musk.
I'd spent most of our budgeted allotment of birthday funds on a birthday date to an Asian Buffet and the Nickel Arcade the weekend before, and seeing those three little presents on the table, I felt sort of bad.
I'm miserable at hiding my emotions and Kevin could tell something was bothering me. After a little of his prying, I confessed.
Yet again my husband wowed me with his perspective (I often feel like his padowan learner when it comes to mature perspectives on life). He said, "Mikayla, I've had a lot more than just three presents. Think about all the frootie candies we had at the nickelcade. All the sushi rolls, chinese donuts, mongolian beefs, noodles, grains of rice we ate at the buffet. There's 15 colognes here, and 4 socks total, and think about all the individual bites of cereal. I'll bet you got me a 1,001 birthday gifts, if not more."
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