Yesterday, we celebrated Billy's birthday. Originally, he wanted to play golf all day because he could play for free on his birthday. OK. Fine. Whatever. I have to work anyway, and I figured we could do something later in the evening. No big deal. It would allow me plenty of time to get a gift for him, since I have failed to find anything for him (aren't all men hard to shop for?).
He had another idea for the day. He asked if I wanted to go out later and dance! Music to my ears!! As I drove home, excited to spend some quality "date" time with my guy, my phone rings.
Billy: "Hey, how's your day going?"
Me: "It's been a tough afternoon. I'm emotionally spent. How are you?"
Billy: "I'm good! Is it okay if I play golf?"
Me: "Of course! It's your birthday. Do what you would like to do (I'm thinking about the five hours I will have to get a nap, wash my car, and find a gift for him)!"
Billy: "Hey, I want to go to The Cowboy Palace tonight. Is that okay with you?"
Me: What came out of my mouth was, "Sure! Your birthday, you decide." What was going on in my head was, "Ohhhhh Fuuuuuuuuudddddggggggeeeeee!!"
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