Birthday Boy

Today was the birthday of this blog's rarely seen but much loved second author (at least according to the account information). M. turned the ripe old age of 36, and despite his birthday's close proximity to Christmas (shopping fatigue) and my busy schedule, I must say I was (for once) on top of my game.

Gift from me: An Acer Aspire Netbook, ordered over the weekend and on the door step yesterday (free shipping, too!). This will give M. his very own laptop for accessing his vast music collection, and free up the house laptop (OK, let's be honest, my laptop) for wonderful pursuits like blogging and Pinning.

Gift from kids: New ear buds, to fit his oddly-shaped ears, purchased with the kids (who would have preferred to buy him a "football picture" of sorts, which sadly [sarcasm] Target was all out of) over the weekend. Wrapped in a page from a Care Bears coloring book colored by Lucy.

Cards: Two; one from me, one from the kids. Kids card had appropriate kid scribbles and signatures, done by Finn.

Dinner: Per M.'s request, I made a recipe I stumbled across recently on one of the food blogs I frequent, Jalapeno Popper Grilled Cheese Sandwiches from Smells Like Home. I followed the recipe exactly, down to finding what I think are the exact same pickled jalapenos (took me some time to find ones that were not already sliced), and I'm so glad I did. Behold the awesomeness:





I couldn't stop at just one photo, these sandwiches were that good. Served with a side of brussels sprouts, sliced and sauteed with some olive oil, S&P. Kids ate plain grilled cheese and blackberries, because they are boring.

Cake: Boy, did we have cake. Let's just say that this was not exactly an "on plan" day, Weight Watcher's-wise, for me. Finn specified that we had to make M. a chocolate cake, with vanilla frosting and a big red Wisconsin "W". And I delivered:







I used this recipe for the chocolate cake itself, and store bought frosting. It had all the convenience of a cake made from a mix, but tasted far better. In fact, it's too good, and now I need to find some way to keep myself away from the leftovers.

And with that, I'll stop patting myself on the back (and dreading the precedent I've set for myself) so I can go keep the sexiest 36-year-old I know company as he watches his fascinating and not nerdy at all [again with the sarcasm] TV show about sea life in the Antarctic.