Pre-Birthday, Non-celebration, Dinner

Russ is about to have a big birthday, but I am forbidden from doing anything about it or even mentioning it, so you will just have to guess. No parties are to be given, no once in a life time trips are to be planned, no cakes are to be baked and absolutely no banners being pulled by a biplanes are to be flown around town. I keep begging him to tell me what we can do to celebrate this momentous occasion.

Today Russ went to pick Carter up at riding and the two of them hatched a plan of something I could cook for dinner that I only would do if it were somebody’s birthday, spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. Since Russ will be out of town for work on his actual big day I rejoiced that he had one request even if it was so pitiful that it hardly qualifies as a celebration.

I know that for the last two and a half years there has been very little pasta around here, no homemade meatballs and nary a crust of garlic bread. I too love all those things, but need to steer clear because carbs of those caliber are what got me a hundred pounds fatter in the first place. But why should Russ suffer? So I got to work cooking. I bought myself an acorn squash to use as a bowl for the meatballs and sauce so I could avoid the pasta. Somehow I still feel very bloated.

Once I was given the green light of a small recognition of Russ’ birthday I stretched out the spaghetti and meatball party to include a homemade peach pie. Russ has never been much of a cake guy, but an offer him a slice of good pie and he will follow you anywhere. I had a basket of peaches I bought at the farmer’s market last weekend and they finally got ripe enough to eat, so a pie they became.

We have had our main course of dinner, but are holding off on the pie so everyone’s stomach could settle a little. Apparently my 800 days of chicken dinners have conditioned everyone to not be good pasta consumers anymore.

So happy birthday, a couple days early, Russ. You don’t look a day older than you do the day I married you. In fact, you are thinner. I hope that you are only half way through your life because at the rate we are going you are only going to get spaghetti and meatballs about 18 more times.