With Respect to the Day of My Hallowed Birth

When it's your birthday, I hope someone special does something like THIS for you. Because for this year's Big Day of Marking How Bloody Old I'm Getting, the amazing humanoids in my house woke me with hot coffee and PRESENTS.

Here we go.

GIVE US THE CUPCAKE.

This card also informs me that I am the "greatest person in the universe as a hero and a mom." Just so you know. You can stop trying so hard now. Go ahead. Be a slacker. The role of #1 Human has clearly been filled.

The baby came into me the other day, feeling creatively vexed about what to do for my birthday, so I gave him this:

What I call a seed list. A few words to get the ideas flowing. THIS was the result:

You may have to click it to see it better. Does that work?

If you can't see it, he's incorporated everything from the list into this comic except the otter, plus he added scissors and a piece of paper to complete the rock's storyline. The magical jellybeans have LEGS. Omigod. These kids? MAGICAL MAGIC.

Pretty Princess, not to be outdone by her pesky little brothers, presented a Sephora gift card, which is quite decadent for my drug-store-makeup-department palate, but I am twitterpated to go spend $75 on a powder compact. BRING IT. I will be very fancy soon. Oh, and allegedly, there will be sushi at some point today. She also did a lovely collage of wonderful moments from my momentous life, but it's kinda depressing because I was really cute and skinny, like, 10 years ago. Has anyone seen my collarbones?

My darling writer friend/walking buddy/shoulder to cry on knocked on the door with FRESH STILL-WARM-FROM-THE-OVEN CAKE. Seriously? I KNOW! And when she called to see if I'd tried it yet, I was all like, no it's morning I can't eat cake, and she was all like, yes you can it's your birthday you can eat morning cake, SO I DID. And it was delicious, yo. Only I forgot to take a picture and now there's a big gaping hole in the cake where my face might have gnawed out a sizable chunk.

And, while whining the other day about the age I have achieved this year, my super-big-brained, Mental-Floss-writing, Editorial Colleague of Genius and Doom reminded me that I am That Number, the one that is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Here's proof:

Seriously. Google the number 42, and see what comes up. Douglas Adams, we bow. (And thanks, Adrienne. I'm sorry I'm so late for the party.)

September the 19th is also shared by famed writer William Golding (Lord of the Flies), the original Batman (Adam West), Hermione Granger (!!!), James Lipton, Jeremy Irons, Jimmy Fallon, supermodel Twiggy, Canadian heartthrob Kevin Zegers, actor David McCallum, musicians Tegan and Sara, and a bazillion other people.

SO, happy birthday to all my birthday twins, ESPECIALLY my lovely London Sarah across the pond. THIS is what my Sarah gave me:

AND THIS:

 

Because no post on Planet Jenn would be complete without Mark Strong and a cat picture. (Mr. Strong, I am not a stalker. I swear. Well, maybe a little stalker. Tiny stalker. Only not so tiny because I am eating cake in the morning. I PROMISE NOT TO BOIL YOUR RABBITS.)

I mentioned cats. Hence, I give you Naughty Nuit, just because I'm feeling generous:

 

And to close out the week, because tomorrow I have children home from school and thus no thoughts will be strung together without 147.5 interruptions, I give you this. 

GO AND READ AND PEE FROM LAUGHING. 

Here--first pull on this lovely Depends undergarment--I got a whole box for my birthday.

Xs and Os, lovelies ...

Proof that I do yardwork.