Outside the mourning doves are cooing. Inside the house, my daughter is declaring the toast to be too toasty (and her highness is requesting less-toasty toast please!). There is a low whine in the background — the sound of a broken toilet that won’t stop running and that my mediocre plumbing skills are not capable of fixing.
I am wearing a happy birthday hat that my daughter put on my head. I am eating the discarded toasty-toast. It is all glorious because I am also sitting here writing! With my coffee, natch.
Happy Saturday, friends.
Is it your birthday? If so, Happy Birthday!
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For a moment I was confused…and then I remembered, the birthday hat. Ha! Nope, not my birthday. My daughter’s birthday is in a few weeks. She’s just a wee bit excited. 😁
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