11's Birthday Story (or a summary of my day)

If you ask me what we’re having for your birthday dinner,

I’ll ask what you want.

And when you say spaghetti,

I’ll remember we’re out of pasta.

So I’ll add it to the grocery list.

Then I’ll have to find my boots.

On the way to the store, I’ll notice the windshield wiper blade is separating.

So I’ll stop at Auto Zone to have it replaced.

Then I’ll remember we need gas.

And when the car is all finished, I’ll fight my way to a parking space.

Then I’ll want to find a cart without a squeaky wheel.

Walking into the store will make me realize we’re out of sidewalk chalk.

So I’ll go to the craft aisle.

In the craft aisle, I’ll remember that your four-year old sister has to bring a painted egg crate to school tomorrow.

So I’ll have to buy some paint.

And once the paint is in the cart, I’ll need brown eggs for their paper carton.

I’ll probably sigh and roll my eyes.

When I pick up the eggs, they’ll remind me that I’m hungry.

So I’ll start toward the ice cream aisle.

I’ll grab a bag of chocolates and three rolls of paper towels along the way.

On the way to the ice cream, I’ll pass the pasta aisle. It will remind me about the spaghetti.

So I’ll grab a box and throw it in.

When I arrive at the register, I’ll notice I left my credit card in the car.

So I’ll annoy all the customers and shuffle out the door to find it.

Once the groceries are paid for, I’ll drive home.

Then I’ll ask you to bathe your little sister while I unpack.

And once the groceries are done, you’ll ask, “Did you finish dinner?”

And I’ll ask, “What did you want?”

Then I'll send your sister to her room for screaming and write it all down instead of cooking it for you.

And that’s why I don’t remember. I love you. Happy Birthday 11.