It just so happens that my husband’s birthday and my birthday are only two days apart. A while back we started a tradition of celebrating the day in between, our “average birthday.” It’s a nice way of consolidating the celebrations.
However, it didn’t work out that way this year. My husband’s birthday was on Rosenmontag, which was like a built-in celebration for him. We almost drove to Cologne for the occasion, but at the last minute we gave into the cold and our own tiredness and stayed in town. We walked with my parents to the center of town, got hot chocolate, and enjoyed the parade here.
In the afternoon, I baked bite-sized Almond Joy scones as birthday treats (being sure to make enough that he could take some to work the next day while still getting to gorge on plenty myself).
Of course, when my birthday rolled around two days later, my husband couldn’t be outdone. He showed up in the evening with an incredible cake from a local patisserie:
We had been planning on going out to eat for dinner, but I thwarted that plan by accidentally having a GIANT lunch with my parents earlier in the day. And thank goodness, because the light dinner we ate at home meant I had plenty of room for that scrumptious cake.
But just like that, the delicate balance created by celebrating our average birthday has been thrown off! I’m already plotting something deviously wonderful to try to outdo him next year …