19

So, the Spare to the Throne is 19.  I'm not sure who allowed that to happen, but it did.  I asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday -- or IF he wanted to, now that he's a college guy.  He asked if we could go shopping for clothes, because thankfully, his friends like to dress up, so he wants to too.

Actually, he's always liked dressing up, but he didn't do it often.  And he sometimes got it a little wrong, like the time we did pictures with my family when we were on a cruise.  Somehow, his father couldn't locate his dress shoes, so he came out adorably dressed in a vest, dress pants, bow tie and button down shirt.  Adorable, given his missing front tooth, and then you got to his feet, garbed in neon orange flip flops.  The photographer said he would just shoot him from the feet up, at which point my mother said he'd better keep the flip flops in the picture, because she just loved it.  And he did.

He loved wearing a tux at prom, and can't wait to wear one at Jillie's wedding, and after wearing them every day of his high school career, he has banned both khakis and polos from his life.  I guess ya gotta love a man who knows what he doesn't like.  So The Spare, his little lady friend (who we LOVE), my boo and I headed off to shop.  Jim was an integral part of this, because he not only could give the man's perspective, but he also worked for some time in retail, selling menswear, so he could steer him in the right direction.  Comes in handy, that man does.  So Seth ended up with several new button downs, a new vest, two ties, and a pair of pants.  Jim -- a devoted non-shopper like myself -- enjoyed himself, if you exclude Seth's insistence that he wanted a teal shirt included in the mix.

He will be looking quite dapper now, and Jim's next goal is to teach him how to iron over Thanksgiving break.  Seth insists it's not necessary, even hinting that it's a dying art, but it's pretty useless to argue with a Marine.  I'm thinking that next weekend, Seth will be ironing.  Good thing I just replaced the batteries in the smoke detectors.

Speaking of which, after we went shopping, we headed to Stir Crazy, only to find out that they were closed.  On to Plan B, wherein we ended up at Benihana.  Seth loves a hibachi grill, but his big concern was if they had a vegetarian option for his girlfriend, who doesn't eat things with a face.  Of course they do, so we enjoyed a wonderful dinner of steak, chicken, and shrimp, plus the show the hibachi chef put on.  It was totally yummy, and we sat around afterward just chatting about upcoming plans.  Seth's girlfriend realized that one of her friends had been seated near us, and his mom came over the chat for a few, then we took our leave and dropped the kids off at Butler again, with many hugs and an I Love You or two from the boy.  Love. That. Kid.

We hadn't gotten more than five minutes from campus when Seth texted and said that Benihana had been evacuated about five minutes after we left, due to some kind of electrical fire.  MAN!  We were THAT close to getting a free dinner!  Oh well.  Maybe next time.

The big 4-6

OK, so today is my birthday. 7/11, just like the mini mart. 7-11, like the lucky numbers in some games. 7/11, like my uncle, two of my friends, and John Quincy Adams. It's a popular day, I guess.

The kids celebrated my birthday a day early, with an Asian themed dinner of stuffed mushrooms (YUM!), Caesar salad (I'm sure he owned some property somewhere in Asia, right?), shish kabobs, fried rice, and fried red tomatoes. Oh, and carrot cake, which is my favorite. They even made virgin daiquiris and had sparkling grape juice. Those are some kinda kids, I'll tell you.

And the food was good. Thomas evicted himself from the kitchen, after professing that the kabobs would be awful, but I liked them. He didn't do half bad for a rookie -- I've never made shish kabobs either -- except that he put regular charcoal in our gas grill. Sure am glad he didn't blow himself up. Oye. Live and learn is better than live and burn, I always say.

No arguing over dishes either, cause hubby said he'd do them. Of course, he got doing other things, including touching up the kitchen paint, and I did the dishes, but I don't mind. As I've gotten older (and I AM older, today), I find doing dishes to be therapeutic. It's great to clean the kitchen, because there's a purpose to it, a beginning and an end.

So now, my kitchen is clean, everyone's got a full belly, and I'm quietly reflecting this evening, on the fact that almost 46 years ago, my parents welcomed their fifth -- a 10 pound 4 1/2 ounce ball of fire, complete with red hair, and called her Lisa. Contemplate the time of your birth sometime, and the fact that you are here at all. It's pretty amazing, really.

Oh, there I go getting deep and all, but I guess it's cause we're heading to West Virginia tomorrow, to spend an overnighter with Dan's family, celebrating a 50th anniversary for his aunt and uncle, so I'm gonna chill and enjoy myself. Hillbilly birthday, oh yeah! Good times. And if I wasn't in my 40s, with a waistline to match, I'd be pickin' up this slammin' 40s sundress, from Julie at Damn Good Vintage. Cause today, I'm thinking it's a damn good thing I wasn't a boy.