Happy Birthday, MB3

Sunday was MB3's 17th birthday (my baby....oh, my BA-by.....), so Saturday evening we invited Swede and his daughter over for supper. The teenagers all watched a DVD while the grown-ups sat and talked. At midnight we realized we had a big day coming up on Sunday, and we'd better start getting ready for morning.

Now, when we're on the worship team on Sunday morning, we have to be at church by 9:00am for practice, so we have to leave home by 8:15 at the latest, and it takes 15 minutes to load instruments and get out the door, and 15 minutes to snarf a bowl of cereal, and then --how many people need showers in the morning, at 15-20 minutes each-- and then allow time to put meat and potatoes in the roaster, let's see, borrow 6, put down 2, carry the one...mumble, mumble.....um, that's... 6:30am! Set the alarm for 6:30!

Which I did, on my pda.

Sunday morning, I woke up at 5. Checked the clock. Five o'clock. Got an hour and a half till the alarm goes off. Go back to sleep. No-- go back to DOZE. Doze, worry, sleep (sorta), doze, worry, sleep, dream weird dreams. What time is it? When is that alarm going to go off. Any minute now..... zzz.

I suddenly bolted awake to check my pda. Time: 7:10am!! ????? Ack! I had set my alarm for 6:30PM instead of 6:30AM!

I'll spare you the frantic rush. We did remember to say "Happy Birthday" to MB3, but I didn't have time to put food in the pot to cook while we were gone. Rats. That meant dinner would be really, really late, because we don't usually get home till 1:30, and then to make food from scratch means we don't eat till 2:00 or 2:30. Or we end up eating burgers on the way home, if there's a little extra cash. Poor MB3. What a birthday.

We made it to practice just a few minutes late, and the morning went well from there. I cornered the pastor and told him it was MB3's birthday and asked him to embarrass him. What I meant was, go find him and shake his hand and tell him happy birthday and ask him interested, embarrassing questions, like "How does it feel to be seventeen?" What he did was this:

At the end of the service, right before the closing prayer, while everyone was still standing from the last song, he said "Where's MB3? Stand up MB3!" (MB3 doesn't always stand up when everyone else does, because, one, he's a teenager and must remain COOL, and, two, he's taller than everyone around him and he feels conspicuous.) From my spot on stage I watched MB3 stand up.

The pastor continued, "Raise your hand, MB3!"

Sheepishly, MB3 raised his hand.

"Happy Birthday!"

MB3 turned slightly red and grinned.

Afterwards, MB3 came up on stage while we were packing up. "So," he said. "Where're your wings?"

"Huh?"

"Your wings. Don't you have little birdie wings?"

I still didn't get it.

"Well, obviously, a little bird told SOMEBODY it was my birthday today...! YOU must be the little bird."

Quite a few people came up to us then and asked if we were having birthday parties (yes, plural...what's up with that?) that day. At that point I didn't know if we were having even one party, but I became convinced we needed to somehow find the cash and take MB3 out for a birthday dinner, and Hubby agreed.

We invited Swede and his daughter, and MandoNut (and a friend of his), who all were in church that day, and we took Swede's suggestion to go to Godfather's Pizza. And once we were there, Swede whipped out his card and insisted on paying for it. Thank you, Swede! What a great party we had. We all get a little silly when we're together, and I think people think we're drunk, even though all we're drunk on is Pepsi, or the euphoria of being with friends.

A couple of hours later we were the only customers left in the restaurant, and we decided it was time to leave. But the party didn't stop. We stopped off at Swede's house on the way home --at Swede's daughter's invitation-- and settled in to watch a movie. GuitarGeek went with MandoNut back to BigCity to take his friend home, and they took along ANOTHER friend from church so they could hang out together. Does this sound crazy to you? No? That's because you don't know that BigCity is an hour and a half east, from the town we were in, and MandoNut had just committed to driving out there, and back, and to another city 45 minutes west from our house, and then back to our house-- all in one short afternoon.

About six o'clock, Hubby and I were ready to go home, and realized it was supper time, and we also hadn't had birthday cake yet. So we asked Swede and his daughter if they wanted to come on over for supper and cake. It would probably be an hour and a half before time to eat, so DrummerDude and MB3 stayed there to play pool while we went home to make preparations, and they would come later with Swede.

When I got home, I called MandoNut in BigCity and told him the plans, and he said, "Right, we're leaving now."

With MandoNut and GuitarGeek (and a friend) on the way, scheduled to arrive in about an hour, LovelyDaughter and I kicked into high gear. I worked on supper, and LovelyDaughter made the birthday cake. (And let me tell you, that cake was AWESOME! Can you picture a rich gold cake with fudgey frosting, sprinkled liberally with chopped pecans and dark chocolate shreds-- all completely homemade....drool...)

When everyone arrived, including the friend who had gone along for the ride, we had a birthday party.

At nine, the friend needed to go home, and needed a ride. MandoNut had already planned to do it, but Hubby stepped in and offered to go, so he could have an excuse to drive our Z3, and of course, friend was not averse to that!

The rest of us played card games--with the new cards MB3 got for his birthday-- till he got back, and had a BLAST! It's so fun to laugh with friends.

Then MandoNut stayed for the night, so Monday morning felt like an extension of the party. It feels like we had a two-day party for MB3.

It's funny, because Sunday morning when I was worried about how to plan the day, I prayed and asked God if HE would plan a party for MB3, then all we'd have to do is carry out His plans. And you know what? He did! Thanks, God.