Happy Birthweek To Me

I'm actually disappointed during the years when there is a February 29th. Because on those years folks actually know when to celebrate my birthday. The other three years in between, however, seem to baffle everyone. The result is something more akin to a "birthweek" than a "birthday". This year my BW began last Friday when I blew out of work several hours early to embark on a beer related expedition that ended with a rarity, a real, actual, kid-free date with my wife. Saturday I was afforded the opportunity to sleep in and play Borderlands in an empty house before discovering an adult beverage called gueuze. Sunday I got to sleep in again, awoke to bacon and pancakes, was serenaded by my offspring, drank way too much St. Ambroise Oatmeal Stout, had a small family party, and ate lots of apple pie. Today a coworker bought me lunch and the Management bought me ice cream sandwiches. I should probably tell everyone that this birthday thing has gone on long enuf. Intsead, tonight I'm planning on more Ambroise before cracking the wrappers on my new controller and Bulletstorm. So maybe tomorrow I'll mention something. Or maybe not. Because I've been thinking. Next year there will be a leap year.