Birthday Blues
The plan: dinner at BLT Prime, followed by some sort of dessert that I had made, keeping birthday balloons in tow the whole time.
What happened: I got really sick last night (and today), so the delicious steak that I had hoped to devour in celebration of Ben’s 25th was instead a pot of chicken soup that I made. Instead of dessert, there’s cough syrup. Instead of balloons, there’s scattered kleenex.
Do public apologies hold more weight (or have any influence in the recipient’s willingness to forgive)? The short of it: if I were Ben I’d think I stink as a birthday presenter. Today is his 25th birthday, and the only thing I’ve successfully given him is a stuffed nose. Oops.
