…he says it’s his last. He’s 39. Next year, he’ll be celebrating the 1st anniversary of his 39th birthday.
Anyway, the chillens got him a box of chocolate-covered cherries–his favorite. I got him tickets to the Santana concert, coming in August. My dad & his wife are coming up later this evening, to take us to dinner.
I also let him sleep in a little. He couldn’t sleep in too late, because he had to be somewhere. He’s over at this medium-famous guitar player’s house (a guy named Larry McCray), jamming and hopefully making a contact or two. Larry & Mr. Cristi are acquainted with each other, but through a mutual friend of theirs, Larry expressed a desire to sit down & jam with Mr. Cristi. I guess Larry has actually been paying attention to what other people have said about my husband’s abilities (he’s good. really good.) Anyway, I’m hoping that this little jam sesh will be fruitful, and lead to more.
But the best birthday present is that just for today, Mr. Cristi is absolved of responsibility. He’s a stay-at-home-dad, so he always has the kids hanging all over him, plus housekeeping duties & stuff. I took the day off work, so he could do his thing, or not, as he so chose. He likes it when I do that. 
Mundane enough? Yeah. I thought so.
Cristi, Slayer of Peeps
I made my husband join a bridge club. He jumps next Tuesday.
(title & sig courtesy of UncleBeer and WallyM7!)