My Super Sweet 25

I am 25.

I dont know how I should feel about being 25, but I do know that I gripped onto the last hours of being 24 like a hawk. Eventually though, I released my grip on time and I turned 25. Im just 5 years away from 30.

<Big Sigh>

Anyways, enough with the pity party for me.

Since I moved across the world, I expected Charlie to be offshore most of the time and working. So far, he has been off shore twice, both times in November for a week a piece. So he hasn't really been working at all, which means for my family that top ramen and Target brand macaroni and cheese are getting really old. We have just been scraping by and sleeping on an air mattress dreaming of when he is going to get a call so maybe one night we could have steak or just a good brand of peanut butter.

We were out driving around on Saturday morning savoring our Starbucks and trying to think of something to do for my birthday the following day when Charlie gets a call...to go offshore...for my birthday and Valentines day. Great. While I was happy that I could justify going out to eat for breakfast the following morning, I was bummed that my husband wouldn't be there to help me ring in the big 25. 

Lucky for me though, I have a super spectacular son, who in all his graciousness offered to take me out to breakfast at the place I have been wanting to go since moving here.

 Another Broken Egg Cafe. 

It was amazing. Probably the best breakfast ever, ever, ever!

Steve had pancakes and bacon and finished everything on his plate, which is such a miracle that I wanted to run in the back to the chef, throw my arms around him/her and thank him/her for feeding my son actual food, not fruit snacks. I had a lobster omelet. It was the bomb. It had huge chunks of lobster meat and some sort of cream cheesy filling, I'm not sure, but I didn't ask any questions. I actually don't think I breathed the entire time while eating, it was so good I just shoveled into my mouth. It was reasonably priced as well, 19.00 for a fantastic breakfast that I didn't have to cook. Oh and outside they have a cool wishing pond, so I gave my date some quarters (he "forgot" his wallet) and he made some wishes, for some kind of robot, I think.

Afterward, we went to the park and it was frightening. How can a childrens park be frightening, you ask? Well, take a seat and read up. There were 45,000 kids in a gated park that is the size of my first apartment, which is incredibly small. That was scary enough, but then there was some 10 year old kid riding around on a razor scooter, veering in and out of toddlers and grown-ups alike. It was like a recreation of Mad Max, except without the motorcycles...and assless chaps. Somehow, we managed to fight/find our way to the slide, Steve goes down, yay, we high five. We look up and see Mad Max-Razor Scooter kid toss his scooter down the slide and slam into the back of a panic-stricken 4 year old. Mad Max Razor Scooter Kid shows no remorse, until the dad of the panic-stricken kid steps into the ring. Heres where it gets crazy. The dad, who is no less than 8 feet tall, by the way, runs over and yells, "Hey, what do you think you are doing? You cant do that to my son!" Proceeds to pick up the scooter and chuck it over the fence, at least 100 feet away. Mad Max Razor Scooter kid was like, "Hey!" because I think thats all he could muster in the face of Scary Dad. Scary Dad then says, "Nobody messes with my son!". All Steve and I could do was open-mouth gape at what was happening. While still staring at Scary Dad and Scooter Kid, I asked Steve quietly, if he was ready to leave, and he replied yes, please.
After that incident, it was important to use my gift card to Macys, to you know, unwind a little from The Hulk. We braved the mall which was just as chaotic as the park. I bought some cups I have wanted forever and a pair of shorts. We were on our way to the food court to get some grub, when I notice that all the stores are starting to close up. Which is when I realize that its Sunday and malls close early on Sundays and then Steve tells me he has to pee. We make a mad dash for the bathrooms and easiest escape route, I can see the exits, but no bathrooms. Steve is just going to have to hold it. I step outside and realize that we are on the complete opposite side of where we parked. Steve and I ran, at least 5 miles around the outside of the mall, looking for my car. It was getting dark, Steve had to pee still and twilight outside of the mall is the perfect place to get raped and murdered. I start to panic and Steve starts to potty dance. I quickly look left and right, nobody around. I pull Steves pants down and whisper-yell, "GO GO!".

Yes, my son peed on JC Penny on my birthday.

After, what I will refer to as 'The Mall Incident' I decided that cooking wasnt gonna happen. I went to work and bought some pizza and breadsticks. 

Overall, it was an interesting birthday, one that I will remember in an interesting way.

 Cheers.