Well, the cake turned out to be the collapsingest, sickeningly sweetest, doofiest looking cake ever. I didn't have the right pans so I stuck it in a 10" Springform and it cooked up high on the edges and made a nice huge hollow in the middle. I was thrilled, because it made me laugh, and I knew it would make S. laugh, too. So I tossed the canned icing, which was inedible, and instead whipped up some butter cream frosting from scratch to which I added maple syrup and nutmeg for my favorite little Vermonter (besides Rudy Vallee, of course!). I slopped it on there and dug out some yellow decorating icing I had from a GF's baby shower, and wrote Happy 41 on it, as well as drew the likeness of a chicken (our mascot). It was THE ugliest cake you've EVER seen, I guar-awn-tee it!
So after the day's work S. decided he wanted to go to our local for dinner, so we did, had a lovely time (they had live washboard jazz, which was fun because the guys were good), a nice talk, and S. even snatched the check when it came (I had to resist feeling his forehead for fever) and insisted on paying! Of course I heaped gold stars upon him, and we walked home to have UgliCake with the boys. We had a good laugh over it.
The container trucks roared in around 4 a.m. (there are three houses being renovated right across the street from mine), and so we were awake... what better time to ML? So we were feeling all cozy and snuggly until around 8:30 this morning, when Mr. Cranky reared his UgliHead and lit into me for the "tight deadline" over at the house and how "I want I want I want" but I don't want to come up with any solutions. I had simply mentioned that we would probably need a W&D, and then he accidently kicked a box of his clothes on the floor, then my landlord showed up to take a look at the bathroom he is going to renovate when we move out, and S. couldn't get into the bathroom, and so all this set him off and he went into a rant (above and about not liking being at my house all the time, how uncomfortable it is for him). This time, I couldn't avoid personalizing it (hard as I tried) and cried some, saying I didn't think he needed to talk to me that way after I'd tried as hard as I could to make him comfortable over here while the renovations are going on, making space in my drawers and clearing a spot in the closet, even taking off the mattress topper because it was "lumpy" and he couldn't sleep.
Honestly, these two temper spats I've never seen from him before - I guess the stress is really getting to him. Of course I could never say, "Well, if you'd gotten started 6 weeks before the contractors came, like you'd planned, instead of 2 days before, you'd be in better shape." So of course this is all my fault, this deadline, and everything he's doing is for ME... anyway, I just have to learn to check out quickly when he starts ranting, and heap praise on him when he isn't. Geez, it gets so tiring, babysitting these WASs!
So I went downstairs and for the umpteenth day in a row washed all the crap in the sink from the night before (this time it was the dessert plates), and while I was putting the last things into the drying rack he came up, put his arms around me, and apologized.
Anyway, on to you, H2H, I was JUST thinking about that b'day card this morning! I had forgotten the rosemary sprig, though... your memory is going to get you into trouble one of these days, StaplesHead.
And Sage, I'll let you know when I'm heading up there. Would be great to meet up (hold the meat loaf, please! )
So we were feeling all cozy and snuggly until around 8:30 this morning, when Mr. Cranky reared his UgliHead and lit into me for the "tight deadline" over at the house and how "I want I want I want" but I don't want to come up with any solutions. I had simply mentioned that we would probably need a W&D, and then he accidently kicked a box of his clothes on the floor, then my landlord showed up to take a look at the bathroom he is going to renovate when we move out, and S. couldn't get into the bathroom, and so all this set him off and he went into a rant (above and about not liking being at my house all the time, how uncomfortable it is for him). This time, I couldn't avoid personalizing it (hard as I tried) and cried some, saying I didn't think he needed to talk to me that way after I'd tried as hard as I could to make him comfortable over here while the renovations are going on, making space in my drawers and clearing a spot in the closet, even taking off the mattress topper because it was "lumpy" and he couldn't sleep.
)
