Birthdays. Birthdays. Birthdays.

Well, today is a big day. BIG. Today is Kimberly's birthday, which is exciting enough, no doubt. But I urge you to hold on to your hats, because there's more. Much more.

Tonight we celebrate a series of birthdays that all fall within a 30-day span: my dad's, Kimberly's, my sister Jennifer's, her fiancée's, my brother's fiancée's, and mine. Whee!

So there will be a big shindig at the Swait Manse tonight (that's my parent's home...the Swait 2.0 home is no manse), with all the best beer, wine, and friends (listed in order of importance, of course). Happy birthday to all of us. Yay!

Marion sent Kimberly a birthday card, which I mailed (I'm his secretary, after all), but he did not allow me to read it. Two days later, I read it in the comfort of my own home. Apparently they conspire against my verse behind my back. His card to her read:

There once was a wife of a poet,

Or so he wanted her to know it.

He'd read her a line

And she would say, "Fine,"

But really, she was being a stoic.

And to think that a man who rhymes "poet" with "know it" could wound me so deeply.

Happy birthdays.