So I’m admitting to playing the negligent wife for Devon’s birthday yesterday.

I know I got him a cake last weekend and we did some stuff then.

But I didn’t say a word to him yesterday.  Not even in the morning as we were getting ready for work.  In fact, I didn’t say anything to him until almost 4:00pm as I was leaving work.

Yesterday, as well as the day before yesterday…. was a lot.  Work was crazy.  I spent two days in back to back to back meetings for various reasons, there were emergency situations, all sorts of things that required a lot of my time, energy, and mental capacity.

One of those situations was occurring Tuesday evening into Wednesday, so I woke up on Wednesday morning worrying from the night before.

Devon knew all of this was happening, so he understood that my spaceyness, but I still felt bad that I didn’t even say Happy Birthday until it was like 3/4 of the way over.

So, to (mostly) make it up to him (and because in all of the crazy I hadn’t eaten all day), I took him out to dinner last night.

Then, of course, at dinner, I had to decompress all of the things, so I spent most of the dinner regaling him with all of the stories of the past day or so.  All of this made me go, ‘shit…this isn’t about me! I’m sorry”.

He’s like, “I was on a boring field trip all day, so you’ve got more excitement than I currently do.  Plus….steak…a margarita…you…I’m good, keep going.”

Seriously.  I said Happy Birthday to him all of once yesterday, didn’t even speak to him at all until a text around 3:30, and basically made the whole day about me and he didn’t even care.

He’s adorable sometimes.

Happy Birthday to the weirdly goofy and adorable (albeit stubborn and annoying) husband of mine.

Thank you for your awesomeness (most of the time).