It’s amazing to think that my man has now celebrated 20 of his birthdays with me.
Some have been great, and some have been duds.
Probably the best birthday I ever gave Jason was giving birth to our only son the day before his birthday. Scott was born at 11:01 p.m. on April 25th. I remember at 10:58 that night when the doctor jovially said, “Hey, do you want to try and make it to midnight so they can have the same birthday?”
It’s a good thing a nurse was holding my feet down in the stirrups.
One of the worst birthdays was when I thought I had the best gift idea ever and bought Jason a couple of dutch ovens. I had plans to surprise him with a delicious dutch oven cooked birthday meal to showcase his gift. I pulled those hefty suckers out of the box late in the day of my big birthday cooking plans only to read in the instructions that new dutch ovens have to be greased down and precooked for a few hours in order to season them before use.
Short on time, I tried to get away with a quicky method by increasing the heat.
The house filled with putrid smoke, which is a serious party mood killer. Plus, being naturally stupid and desperate to still pull off my plan, I went ahead and cooked the meal in the dutch ovens thinking all the putridity had already burned off.
Smoke flavoring doesn’t work for fruit cobbler the way it works for meat.
But mostly, I have managed to properly pamper my hubby on the day we commemorate his Earth landing.
I blame the occasional birthday mishaps on the fact that Jason and I didn’t know each others’ birthdays until after we were married. We’d been married a few months and were having dinner with some other newlywed couples. Somehow we got on the topic of birthdays and one of the friends asked me, “Now, when is Jason’s birthday?”
I had no idea. And I had no idea that I had no idea until right then.
I said, “Uhhhh . . .” and looked desperately over at my eternal companion.
Our friends gasped, “You don’t know your husband’s birthday?”
Trying to save us, Jason blurted out, “Well, I don’t know her birthday either, so there!”
We’re so good together.
We had a tender and embarrassing moment of marital discovery as we revealed our birth dates to each other and a bunch of cheeky chortling friends.
We realized the reason we didn’t know each others’ birthdays was because our meeting, dating, courtship, engagement and wedding all happened in a window of months between our two birthdays.
I actually met Jason on USU’s campus two days before my birthday in December. What was I supposed to say? “Hi, I’m Kari and my birthday is in two days.” Like a four-year-old?
We started dating in January. Things progressed over the next few months and were going well, until I freaked out about our relationship over spring break and we broke up for a little while. Jason’s birthday took place during our hiatus so I didn’t celebrate it with him. We got back together, got engaged in June, and married in August. The couples get-together was in November so we hadn’t gotten around to my birthday yet.
See, there’s a perfectly good explanation.
We’re not the only couple in our family who likes to wait to reveal important personal statistics until late in the game. Jason’s grandma recently told us about an experience she had when she and grandpa were about to get married.
She met him while she was working as a nanny for his aunt during the summer after she graduated from high school. They lived in different towns quite a distance from each other, but kept in touch through letters and occasional visits. After courting for over a year they got engaged. When they went to get their marriage license the clerk asked how old they were.
Grandma answered, “I’m eighteen.”
Grandpa was shocked, “You’re only eighteen?”
Grandma defended, “Well, he’d never asked how old I was when we were dating, so I’d never told him.”
She told us how as they walked out of the clerk’s office grandpa stopped and said, “I’m marrying a damn kid!”
At least Jason and I did know our ages before we got married. And there are oh, so many other personal stats to discover after marriage way beyond birthdays.