My parents chose the perfect time to get knocked up

...with me, that is.  I love that my birthday is May 12.  Sometimes it's a little chilly, but today it's hotter than two rabbits doin' it in a wool sock.  And usually there is a hell of a thunderstorm.  Love it.

I get a paid holiday for my birthday, so I'm going to spend it doing yardwork.  Getting a tan, getting exercise.  I'm going to come back to work on Monday and people will be like, "zomg, did u like go to florida or somethin?" and I'll be like, "no bitches, my birthday just wins," and then I'll impress them with my front lawn.

Tonight, I'm going to wing dinner because (a) there's almost nothing in the house food-wise, so I'm just going to cook ground turkey and then do something random with it, and (b) I have my first softball game in the evening.  I went to D.'s softball game on Tuesday, and there were a couple of kids in the bleachers who were acting up while their mom was playing softball.  I ended up taking one of them to the bathroom (with permission from their mom, who didn't thank me), which was waaaaay across the field from us, and they talked my ear off.  "I like watching mommy play softball and I'm in the first grade and we learned about god in preschool and my little sister Ali wants to play softball like mommy does..."  When we got back, they continued their game of jumping down onto each step of the bleachers, even if someone was sitting right next to where they were to jump.  I can't understand why the mom was in such a bad mood.

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