What’s a B.B.E.?

Is it the Best Birthday Ever? Well, not quite, but it was pretty good. My co-workers Kittied up my cube, because they all know that at heart, I am forever three years old:

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Hello, Kitty!!!

I got some nice presents, two flower arrangements, and a delicious cake, so as birthdays-at-work go, it wasn’t bad. But it got better when I went home, ’cause waiting for me was my own dear Modhran, the Best Boyfriend Ever! Just lookie:

A built-to-order display shelf for my action figures!
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Yes, there are some odd conversations happening on these shelves.

A home-made Hello Kitty cake!
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Then, the greatest present of all: he sent my favorite little bear off for Ninja training!

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“I look forward to killing you soon!”

Isn’t she adorable in that outfit? Can you even see her? NO, because she is Ninja!! You also can’t see the full-size, metal shuriken he gave her, but let me tell you, this little bear is ready for Ninja action! And, please note–this is an entirely handmade outfit. Isn’t that the coolest!?

So, to sum up: he builds, he cooks, he sews. He is the Best Boyfriend EVER. If I could clone him, I’d get rich selling copies of him to girls just like me.

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4 Responses to What’s a B.B.E.?

  1. CountessZ says:

    Birthday?!?!?!

    Why am I always the last to know?

    Also, is it okay if I’m a little envious of your presents? 😉

    I think a lengthy phone call at some point this weekend is definitely in order. I need an escape from the mounds of work I am currently buried under 🙁

  2. kaizerin says:

    Hey, sister-friend, I am totally up for a gabfest! As long as you don’t mind me wallowing in my extravagant pile of prezzies at the same time (hee hee!) We don’t have plans this weekend, except for planting one of my other b-day prezzies–the lovely and sentimental gift of lilies of the valley from my great-grandma’s garden, via my grandmother’s, to me. (Thanks, Ramona the Lovely and Sentimental!)

    I hope the l-o-v does well out here in Orrygon. They’re one of my absolute favorite flowers, and I would happily give over a big chunk of yard to their unfettered blooming.

  3. Ramona the Sentimental says:

    Glad the lily of the valley made it to OR ok. I have the feeling they will do very well in your yard.
    If you get a chance to read Debra Landwehr Engle’s “Oral History” which is a selection in the collection “My Mother’s Garden”, you’ll get some idea how much passing these pips on means to me.
    To quote Deb: “I am thinking about the ways we come to know one another. I will never hear the exact words of my great-grandmother or grandmother, although they speak through the generations in the language of flowers. But I can get a glimpse of them, and the glimpse becomes a picture, just as every river or apple tree or gooseberry bush is part of the earth and is the earth, all at the same time.
    I have been taught that, if you turn your inner and outer world into a garden, people will come and sit with you there. I come often to sit with my mother. Today, I have learned something important. I have learned that my mother, like the women before her, is the scent of peaches drying on a roof, the energy of a rose sprouting in the sun, the perennial flowers that form borders and backgrounds in quilts and backyards. From generation to generation, mothers and daughters pass a link to the earth. An omnipresence, always rotating, always giving life.”
    She is such a good writer; a lovely woman. As you plant your pips in OR from your mother, via your grandmother’s yard, from your great-grandmother’s garden, think a bit about that continuum. Then wonder how far those lilies of the valley came before they grew in great grandma’s garden……..

  4. CountessZ says:

    *CountessZ wishes Ramona the Sentimental was her mommy too*

    That is just too sweet and wonderful and now I’m just gonna go cry because its nice to know that there are mothers and daughters in the world who like each other and find ways to relate to one another as adults and as family members. Gives a person hope, you know?

    Kai, my weekend just involves work and probably some more work — and none of the kind I like. I know, I know, it could be worse. At least I have work to be buried in and the accompanying paycheck that makes it all worthwhile — oh and the preceding weekend which was blissfully work free for 3.5 days (hence some of the craziness at present — some. not all).

    Corvus is working Saturday evening, so that might be a good time for me to gab. Or anytime really. I just miss you terribly.

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