Deborah Woehr

I have no idea. I’ve reached a point in my life where I have everything I need. My husband wants to replace my 14 year-old Mustang, which is finally beginning to show its age. But we can’t afford that right now, and since I’m not commuting, I don’t need a new car to get to work.

“So, what do you want for your birthday?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I respond.
“How about a microwave?”
I laugh.
“No, seriously. You’ve been the most vocal about getting a new one.”
“Okay.” The old one liked to cook the plates (and your unsuspecting hands) more than it liked to cook food.
“We can get a mattress or a refrigerator for my birthday,” he said.
Oh, joy, I thought. Aren’t we the picture of excitement.
I had plans to take the boys out shopping for clothes for our upcoming trip. At that moment, I decided to invite him along. “We’ll look for microwaves, and then we’ll have lunch.”

We bought the first microwave we looked at and fell in love with an Amana refrigerator that has a freezer on the bottom. That expense is slated for next month. Onto more exciting things.

We went to Chevy’s, which sits conveniently across the parking lot from Barnes&Noble. My family made a point to ignore it as we entered the restaurant. After we got seated, my youngest makes some comment about the bookstore (I think it was him.). I instantly piped up that I wanted to go.

My husband grins (picture the red-headed kid on Mad Magazine) and says, “Why don’t you take that hundred I gave you and go tomorrow on your real birthday?”

It was just as well because I over-ate and had to take a nap. My youngest doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m about to drag him to the big Barnes&Noble tomorrow while his older brother sits in summer school.