It's My Party and I'll Eat Crappy Fast Food if I Want to

Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be not-forty.

Generally, I'm not big on birthdays (although given my health history, I should be) and overall, it'll probably be an average day -- the normal craziness getting out of the house in the morning, a whirlwind day at work. And it might be punctuated by some birthday wishes and some nice birthday cards from the fam and my coworkers.

But what I really look forward to ALL YEAR is my traditional birthday meal.

This tradition began with my 30th birthday. Hubby, being the well-meaning and loving Hubby he is, booked us a hotel room, fancy dinner reservations and arranged for my MIL to come look after our brand new 4 month old daughter. But still being in the sleep-deprived, what-the-hell- just-happened-to-me, still-too-fat-to-fit-into-my-normal-clothes phase, I realized that if I was truly honest with myself, I really didn't want to have to stress about what to wear, do the fancy restaurant thing or sleep away from home. What I really wanted was a low-key evening and an early night to bed. So after confessing to Hubby my true feelings, we went to a sushi restaurant and went straight home and watched TV in bed. I was quite happy.

But the next year, I decided to really search my heart of hearts to figure out what I really, really deep down in the bottom of my soul wanted for my birthday dinner.

I decided that my soul needs a Whopper, large order of fries and a chocolate milkshake. Every year.

I can't wait to eat all that salty, fried and chocolatey goodness. I can almost feel the greasy film on the roof of my mouth now.

See, ladies, it's all about knowing exactly what you want in life and going right for it. If only the rest of my life were that easy to figure out.

It's My Party and I'll Eat Crappy Fast Food if I Want to