Forgetting is part of growing old. However, forgetting your own birthday seems ridiculous. I’m listening to the radio and the announcer reads a list of celebrity birthdays. It didn’t hit me. I still didn’t remember.
Perhaps the excitement of our president acknowledging Jerusalem as the capital of Israel still wows my mind. On the other hand, it could be my wife is heading to surgery to have her gallbladder removed. I think it is the latter.
Surgery went well. Elizabethe slept most of the day. She woke long enough to down a yogurt, and then went back to sleep.
With the exception of the bruising where they removed the gallbladder and the stone, she isn’t experiencing any pain to speak of.
When we got home from the hospital, there was a box from UPS. Addressed to Elizabethe, she asked me to open it for her (she’s pretty groggy). It is my birthday present. She got me Book of Mormon Action Figures!
I set up Lehi, Laman and Lemuel and took a quick picture with my cell phone. This is going to be fun.
Okay, it’s been a strange birthday. I didn’t remember (neither did my wife). My present consists of plastic action figure toys, and dinner… well, it was leftover cake from our dinner at the restaurant the other day.
I’m either getting old, senile or both.