happy birthday dear
He pulled some strings.
Some pretty big strings.
It was important that this year his birthday gift to her didn’t disappoint. He was so sick of seeing the crestfallen look that followed every unwrapping. No matter what thought or effort he put into it, he’d always manage to come up with something disappointing.
Not this year.
This year he’d hit a home run. No more pottery courses or hours spent in a deprivation tank. No more Broadway plays or spelunking. No more jewelry, ant farms, dances lessons or colon cleansings.
He’d arranged for his wife to spend time with God.
Not a religious retreat or visit to a church.
He’d arranged some alone-time for his wife with big man himself.
Did I say he’d pulled some strings or what?
She was going to have a sit-down with the creator of the universe. Not just in his presence but having thirty minutes of his undivided attention where she could ask any questions she liked. None of the “a thousand years is but a minute to him” hocus pocus. Thirty full minutes.
The best part? He’d have to give her straight answers. No parables or metaphors. Just the facts.
As he filled out the gift card he had to admit there was a little tremble in his hand. He realized that he was just about to deliver the best gift ever given. His wife was about to learn the secrets of time, space and reality and who shot JFK if she wanted to know (or even who shot JR… she’d never watched Dallas).
He sat back and wondered what questions he would ask if given the same opportunity.
He sat further back, any further and he would have tipped over, and wondered if knowing the answers to some them might create more problems than the wisdom was worth. Was any human equipped to know this type of information?
And what cake should he get? He kept forgetting if his wife loved buttercream or hated it. He knew she had a strong opinion on the topic.
And what the hell was ganache? If he ever met God that would certainly be one of his questions. He’d heard the term on the cooking shows he watched but never knew what exactly it was. His list would go something like; 1. Is the universe infinite or finite? 2. Why do we exist? 3. What the fuck is ganache? 4. Why do we have to die?
He tucked the gift card into the little envelope and smiled. He’d really done it this year. She was going to meet God himself. She always liked knowing something her friends didn’t. They would be so jealous. This had to put him in her good books for awhile.
He picked up the phone and called the little bakery she liked and ordered a berry mascarpone layer cake to play it safe. Screw buttercream. A little more expensive than he would have liked but he wanted the day to be perfect.
He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
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