After spending a week working in Las Vegas without my husband or kids, I really didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to pushing my “birthday weight” around today. Normally on my birthday, I get out of doing everything and anything by uttering one little phrase, “But it’s my birthday…”  Dirty dishes, dirty diapers, dirty deeds… “But it’s my birthday…” That just wouldn’t fly today.

Mark stayed home the entire week with the kids all by himself while I worked/played in Vegas with my Mom and friends. We got mani-pedis; facials; I got an amazing private yoga lesson from Carl; we went to the M&M store on the strip; I watched my Mom and Susie feed money into the slot machines; Jen (professional makeup artist) did me up gorgeous for my show; I got to shop for hours at my favorite thrift store, “Buffalo Exchange” and numerous treasure hunting excursions at the local Goodwills. It was the perfect birthday stretched out over a week.

So when I woke up this morning to a rose in my face and 2 hand decorated packages from Mark and the boys…I considered myself very lucky.

New Mickey Jamas with flowered pedicured toes peeking out.

Sushi for dinner and the boys in bed early. Perfect.

But the dirty dishes are still in the sink from dinner…do I dare say it?

“Oh, Mark…”

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