Long Time Coming

Ringing in the New Year comes with past regrets with the old year and new promises for the new year. I've been going through all of these past feelings, and one of them.. is not being honest. Now I am a big advocate for telling the truth, honesty, to have true communion in relationships. But although I have told the truth, it's withholding the true feelings I have that feel like lies. And in that- I should say, I have learned much this past year, and am still learning.

For instance- There is this person, whom I truly love, but hold little respect for. It angers me that I hold these feelings inside and feel so much regret inside myself for not telling them how I feel. Part of me wants to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them and tell them how angry they make me, things they are probably oblivious to, their family is oblivious to, and yet they are prancing around life in a clown suit while everyone pats them on the head saying"aren't they cute?".

Maybe I am just being bitchy about it.

The other part of me know that patience, love, hope and faith last longer that the foolishness that they show, and I should shut my mouth and love them anyway - no matter what they do- and hold true to my own belief system and things happen and you can't change people or circumstances that have happened and you can move on with your life.

Yeah. So I think that this year, I am going to take a backseat more than I have with the anger. Things will become known, and I know they are scared shitless for things they have done to be known- things they don't even know that I know about- to be revealed. But as Christians themselves, they have the knowledge that all things will be revealed, and they will be judged for those things.

I am going to try and just chill out and not worry about it anymore. I think this blog has mostly served the purpose of being a vomit bag for me- to yell about the things I can't say to people's face, to write the feelings that I don't show.

Sorry to bore you so- but I feel like if you don't want to hear it, you can just stop reading whenever! you know?!?! I'm not here to make you laugh or amuse you. I'm here because it is MY blog, not yours.

Also- I'll be blogging more this year. I will probably bitch more, because I am honestly that person that screams inside and holds it in. and I will try to love more, laugh more. Probably not care so much a little more.

YAY 2011!!

One time I had lunch with Christie Steadman, Sara Martin, and Shannon Wells. I remember holding little June as a baby and being in love with her. I don't remember the conversation at the restaurant much, only that it was just whatever we were thinking about the moment.

The one thing that really sticks out in my mind was when we were outside, and someone said something to the effect that if you are Christian, act like it, don't apologize for it, and if that is what you feel step up to the plate. I remember looking at them as they all stared at me . They all knew I was a Christian, and knew the horrible things people have claimed, done, promised, failed in the name of Christianity. I didn't know how to look each one of them in the eye and tell them how honestly I hated how Christians act, felt, and behaved. It is ridiculous, and I own up to that. BUT SHIT I cannot apologize for how fellow Christians have acted like complete asses. Seriously. That is on their own heads, you know. I am only me. I am not Jacob, or Anne, or Beth, or Brandice. Just me. And I am only responsible for my own actions. That is all.

One time it hit me that when I get to heaven, I can't walk up and say "Hey St. Peter- I'm Jacob Senecal's wife. I believe you are expecting me?" Because it won't happen.

You are responsible for your own feelings.

You are responsible for your own thoughts.

You are responsible for your own actions.

Stop blaming others, dumbasses.

And think about what YOU need to do to better YOURSELF.

And Jesus know all of this. Seriously.

This year I am going to learn to forgive that person.

Get over their own insecurities, because I am not responsible for them.

Live my own life. If they have a problem with it, they have to learn how to deal with it themselves and I will gladly help, support and be there if they need me, but I will never put that on myself to feel bad about the fact they are dealing with things that are beyond my control.

I will, however, pray for them, love them, send encouraging things their way, and be nice to them.

I guess what I am saying is, I am working through my own feelings this year instead of being disturbed at others bullshit feelings and feeling bad about it. We all have our own dealings, but until you pull the plank out of your own eye, you can't get the speck out of your brothers, and When I start dealing with what is wrong, then maybe I can start addressing- honestly and openly the other things. I love you dear messed-up person. I hope you get your shit straight in 2011 because I sure am trying to get mine in order.

xoxo,

Laura

p.s. Eric, I really liked your message this morning. I cuss a lot. Not sorry for it. :)

I haven't really slept in two nights.. I'm not sure why, but I have a feeling it has to do with stress.

This means I have an excuse to be short tempered and frustrated and completely look off into space with glazed-over eyes when you talk to me about something I don't care about. That happens a lot. I realize someone is really trying to talk to me about something that happened to them, or they feel a certain way about _______, and I think -- "oh my. I have not been listening. what have they been talking about? Have they asked me questions? I haven't heard any lapses in speech. " Than I start nodding my head in agreement and say .. "Isn't that just life for ya? GOD! "

Maybe I am just getting older, 0r maybe I just need way more sleep.

When Sleep does come, I have Stanley Kubrick dreams. Last night I dreamt that I was having another baby. I had planned on having this baby in a bath tub of an upstairs room that was completely unfinished. I think you could actually see the stars from the tub just by looking upwards. The day came when I started having minor labor pains, and when I sat down to use the bathroom, the baby came out. It was small and wrapped in .. uh.. organs? Wet, red ,.... flesh.

I unwrapped it to see what it was. At first, I thought it was a boy and thought.. FINALLY.. A BOY! but then I realized it was a girl and then thought.. oh my god I have FOUR GIRLS.

She was feisty and alive and chatty. That's right.. chatty. She knew a few words and could say MAMA. I also noticed she had teeth. Like, all of her top teeth. I just gasped and thought how horrible breast feeding would be.

These are my dreams, people.

When I woke up, I realized how sad I was that we aren't having any more children. Jacob was completely done with children after Madeline, but I begged and pleaded to please let me have another. So After Lily was born, he went to the hospital and got him self all fixed up. The conversation went something like this...

Me: " Hey, honey? Let's just go. We haven't paid yet, and we can just leave now and go home. "

Jacob: " No way. We are staying and I am getting this done. "

Me: "whine."

I think I am still mourning this decision. I still secretly wish that I could somehow get pregnant even though he is done. I have heard that it can happen, but seriously doubt it will. Jacob has made valid arguments that my back would not be able to handle another pregnancy, and he is probably right. Even without a job and without being pregnant, I hurt probably every three months. Right now is one of those times.

I picked up Madeline at church on Sunday and I think that was probably the worst decision of the month of May. Not only am I getting ready for Madeline's Magic birthday this Saturday, but it is also Jacob's birthday, and the end of school for the kids, graduation, Spring Art and Dance show, and my back is out. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CLEAN EVERYTHING so I won't be secretly judged by mothers on Saturday?

I need a maid.

Conversations : Anne and Jacob

Conversation I just heard:

::Jacob changing channels::

Anne: "NONONO, Daddy! "

Jacob: "You don't want to watch the news, do you?"

"YES! I've been watching the news for DAYS. I love CNN. Do you know what I have been watching? "

"What?"

"I've been watching ALLL about Haiti. "

"Well. Alright. I guess. Do you know who those men are? They are the past Presidents. "

"What are their names?"

"Bush and Clinton. "

"I KNOW who Clinton is. "

"But he was President before you were born. "

"Well.. I KNOW who he is. "

"Okay. Well, Clinton was the President Before you were born. And Bush was President when you were born. "

"DAAAAD. There where TWO Bush's . I know. ::frustrated sigh:: I know because we sing a song at school about it. "

"You do?"

"Yeah. And they don't sing about Obama or the last Bush, but I know who there were two. And there were two Roosevelt's, too. "

"Who was the First President?"

"Washington"

"RIGHT! My family is related to a President. My Mother was a Taft. We are related to the Taft family. "

And then it just sort of drifted off. Mainly because Madeline came in my room and then shut the door, so most of what I heard were the elevated excited things spoken. I just heard "DAD! President Bush went to Haiti!!" And then I giggled at how I don't like Bush and how "going to Haiti" means "going to Hell".

Then I guess Anne got tired of watching the Presidents speak about aid in Haiti, because now they are watching Jonah and the Whale.. the Veggie-tale video.

Most of what I will be doing today is trying to finish some knitting and crocheting, because once again, I am on my back, taking pills and trying to relax. I hate hate hate hate taking medicine. REALLY HATE IT. I have 2 bottles of pills that I keep very safe, and if I ever need them, really need them, I will still waver back and forth on the pros and cons of taking the medication. Even today as I got up, did my stretches and did some things around the house, I felt pretty good. Then the pain started. If I lay flat down, it feels alright. If I sit up or stand, even for a short period of time, I start have sharp and extremely painful shooting pains in my back, hips, and legs. There is a nerve being pinched by a bulging disk, and if I relax and not aggravate it, it will eventually slide back into place (the disk) . If I continue to aggravate it, it will get worse, and likely burst, spilling the little bit of moisture it has left out, and causing more pain than I need. I eventually gave in and asked for medicine. Jacob wanted to give me a pill, then coaxed me with "half a pill?" I finally agreed to just take some ibuprofen. It never really works, but I like trying that first. So.. I might blog some more. Or knit you something. Who knows!!!

zzzzzzzzzz........

This is what happens to me every week. .

I clean my house, I vacuum, mop, do laundry, and dishes. I make sure everything is put away and the coffee is ready to start in the morning. I feel so organized and accomplished.  It feels so great to look around and feel like you can walk around without your shoes on.. God forbid you step on one of those sharp little legos that bruise the bottom of your tender feet. 

I go to bed patting myself on the back and then that thing happens.. It happens often. It's happened most of my life. I don't sleep.  Somewhere down the line, there must be vampire blood or owl blood or something else that is majorly screwed, because I can't figure out what I am doing wrong to deny myself sleep. 

I LOVE sleep. I could stay in bed aaaaallllll day and just snuggle in the covers and and read my Readers Digest or watch Barack Obama and dream about what it would be like if I had married him or Jon Stewart instead.   

But sometimes, well.. often.. I just don't sleep. I will lay away till about 2 or 3 a.m. and then finally drift off. Then if or when I wake up, my day becomes Cranky Momma Day. The kids scatter and learn to get their own water or juice. Last week on that particular day, I woke up and started sneezing over and over. So I decide to take a Benadryl. (I never take medicine). About an hour later, Jacob is ready to go to work and the Benadryl knocks my ass out.  I am the crankiest momma ever, yelling "SSHHHHHHH!!!", and "LET MOM SLEEEEP."

My children have learned from this sleep deprived state of motherhood. 

The other day, the girls were talking to themselves at the kitchen table. Madeline started chanting "Apple juice! Apple juice!! Apple juice!! Apple juice!! Apple juice!! Apple juice!!" and I said "Madeline, that isn't a nice way to ask for juice. " And Anne piped up to be the big sister and said "Maaaadeliiine. Don't ask like that. You could anger Mom. And then she might ATTACK!!" and she curled her fingers and sort of lunged at Madeline.  Which I thought was hilarious. 

Today was a good morning, though. I got up, took a shower to wake myself up, and started cleaning. Then I swept, mopped, checked on the garden, mailed my netflix back, stuff like that. I'm getting ready for Ben Stedman to come over for dinner, which he never does anymore because he is famous and has to practice all the time for his band that I secretly wish he wasn't in.  Because then he would be bored and we could see him more.  I have a feeling that since I didn't sleep last night, that he will come over, I will laugh and have a drink and then perhaps pass right out and not spend any time with him. I won't get to make fun of him or ANYTHING.

Guess I better get it all out of my system right when he walks in the door.  Anyone wanna help me fill up some water balloons?

Hooray!

I got another self-righteous criticizing letter from my step-mother! 

Life is beautiful and awesome and perfect. 

Two Black Eyes and a Roundabout Kick to the face, please.

I wish I could reach into the internet and  beat the hell out of someone.  I really do.  As a God-fearing Christian, YES. I TOTALLY DO. Some people just need a good punch in the face.  And God knows this, and I think He would be okay with it. 

My sister has just gotten a dose of what Dooce gets most likely everyday, and  at first, I was thinking to myself "Oh, just like Heather Armstrong. " 

Instead of laughing about it and posting remarks making a valid point like Heather, my sister has been hurt by the words  "You are a bad mother" or "You are an idiot". I think she feels threatened enough that she is willing to take her ENTIRE blog down. This is tragic for me. 

1. I have gotten so much closer to my sister through reading her daily blogs. We connect like we haven't connected in the past. 

2. I feel angry that someone has hurt her in a way for her to even consider such an action. 

3. She is a WRITER.  This is her passion and her way of expressing herself through her art.  

I wished I lived closer to my sister.. To hug her, to let her cry on my shoulder, and to look her square in the eye and forcefully tell her to stand up for what is right and blog all she wants. 

Also.. you know, she didn't do anything wrong. AT ALL. But words hurt. Especially when it is about your kids. Maybe I am just more aggressive than her, but I would abuse them right back with a Fist of Words. 

Jerks.

Just go ahead and stick a dagger in my heart.

Jacob got to Chicago! They made it up there pretty fast, actually.. I was impressed.  He had told me that they were in "wicked heavy traffic" and that the city was busy and beautiful. He sent me a picture of the Sears Tower. I talked to him when he got to his hotel and chatted for a while, although, they were pretty exhausted from driving for 10 hours. 

A little later, I called him and he blurted "I CAN'T TALK. I'M DRIVING. I'M TRYING TO FIND HEATHER ARMSTRONG."  I hung up the phone and got really excited, mainly because I LOVE her and would die if I got to be in the same room with her. So witty and brilliant, that lady. 

He called me a while later and I eagerly answered, thinking.... well.. thinking so many things. For instance.. Did he just tell her he "drove all the way from Alabama to Chicago and can you please say hello to my wife who is in love with you?" Instead I heard a defeated "Hey, Honey." Which meant bad things that would later come back to haunt me. He said yes, they did find the bookstore. Yes, she is still here signing books. They are all sold out of books. THEY ARE ALL SOLD OUT OF BOOKS. THEY ARE ALL SOLD OUT OF BOOKS. For REALz. I heard all this chatter and I felt all the mixed emotions of defeat and utter excitement. 

Me: "Well.. Can... you just tell her I said Hello and you drove all that way and I love her?"

Jacob : "no."

Me: " How does she look? Is she all tired and bloated and pregnant-looking??"

Jacob: "uh.. she's putting on a good face."

Me: "Can you just hold up your iPhone and take a PICTURE of her???"

Jacob: "No."

Me: "Well!!  Can you just .."

Jacob: "NO, LAURA. There is a room full of people. There is a long, long line to see her.  It's going to take her another hour just to sign all those people's books."

I felt so close.. yet so far away.  I actually did that little girl squeal when he called me from the hotel. It went something like this "eeeeeeeeeeI'msoexcitedyourinthesamecityasheeeerrrrr!!!".

It's the effort. That is why I love that man. 

Lily is her own little person. And I am afraid of her.

Right now, I am watching my sweet baby Lily sleeping beside me. 

I should be asleep.

Her little face looks much like the photo here:

She looks so small and sweet and innocent, doesn't she??

You Fool. 

She is so far from that. She is become my little tumbling, screaming, screeching two-year-old who will strive to get her way NO MATTER WHAT. Today, we went to Trowbridge's, a local ice cream parlor built in 1918 and when you walk inside, it seems as if you have walked into the past. I love it there. Sitting down in the old fashioned seats, I order a chicken salad sandwich (it comes on white bread) and their orange pineapple ice cream (served in an old fashioned dessert glass).

As soon as that glass hit the table she grabbed it with her little grubby fingers and started eating it. I ignored it for the most part, because I really don't mind if she eats some of it. I just wanted a taste. 

When I get my spoon and start to take a bite, you might think that this sweet little person dressed in ballerina pink with a pretty little bow in her brushed, soft hair might be having a seizure. Screams shoot from her little open mouth and her whole body shakes in defiance of what she sees her mother do. This has become commonplace, lately, and I just roll my eyes. 

What can you do? 

I have spanked, threatened (and then followed up on the threats) taken things away and sat her in time out. It seems endless, and then again.... she is only 2 and 1/2.

You might think that with all of the hub-bub of my day and merely dealing with Lily, that I too, should be asleep. 

I am not asleep because... I can't sleep with out Jacob. 

aaaawwwww. 

He is downstairs with Anne watching that dumb sequel to the Narnia adventure movie that was awesome . This one seems (by the noises I hear) to not be so thrilling. 

I walked downstairs to do some laundry, and I asked him how it was. He replied with a "nuuaaah." 

Next week, he leaves to go to Chicago on a business trip for  a few days. I can already tell it is going to be a week filled with Tylenol P.M. and crying jags. The medicine will be for me, and of course the crying will be from the girls (mostly). I don't do well when Jacob is not around, but I figure I will manage. It is hard because they LOVE their Daaaaadddyyyyyy!!! He is magic and makes everything better and gives them things when Mommy says "no". They are always asking for him. I can imagine him at the hotel, getting a full nights sleep, eating at UNO's, laughing it up with Ben. YEAH, that's right. Ben Stedman is going. Because it is "work-related", and a computer programmer conference and why not, Laura, ease up geez I'll only be gone for a few days....

All I can say is, those girls are going to be getting LOTS of ice cream while he is away. 

Especially Lily.

When he gets home, maybe she will be nice to me again. 

Laura, Unhinged.

Dear Internet,

Another Day has passed, and another day has come to that point where I am reflective and all the mindless chatter in my brain becomes loud and obnoxious and I am forced to think about the tasks at hand and myself.   I have been ignoring myself lately.... to the point where doing something seems selfish and wrong. I.. after a nice long talk/cry/whimper session with my sister-in-law,  have come to the realization that I need what is called in the normal world as "breaks". These are things you do for yourself so you won't go crazy. They include simple things such as.... taking a nap... going to a bookstore and mindlessly wandering, going on a date, NOT DOING LAUNDRY.

 I know.. they seem very unreasonable and well, frankly, impossible, but people have reassured me that there is this thing, called "balance", and people do it all the time.  Things have become so blurry to me lately, that I find it difficult to drive or talk or  have real emotions. I have thought that possible I am going through a nervous breakdown of sorts, but my husband has assured me it is what he calls "burn out".  I am learning to laugh and cry and think. There will be a moment, and I will simply burst into tears. Most of the time, I can hold it together, and that is when I am very proud of myself. I think on the outside it looks as if I am very stable and approachable. Most of my friends will glide up to me and start joking with me, meanwhile I am nodding my head and smiling at them, joking back and forth, laughing and giving off the impression that all is fine in my world. They will ask me things like "How is your back?" "How is your family?" "Is everyone well in your family?".   I always respond with a reassuring "We are all mending", or "Fine, thank you!".  

That is not the case. I think lately I have been unraveling.  It is very difficult to think that I need to do something for myself. When I finally do force myself to rest or watch TV or write down my thoughts, I am overwhelmed with guilt. Guilt is pouring over me in waves and I become the Mother that cannot do enough to meet everyones needs. I am trying to learn, and the reason that I am writing it down here, is because I am forced to be reminded of the things I learn.  I know I need to let go, I know I need to relax, I know I cannot be all of the things I wish I could be for everyone. I want to be the Mom is is always there, the wife who is forever loving and kind, the friend with the listening ear and smiling face, the sister with the stories and laughter, the daughter with the heart for her parents.  I am realizing I am putting to much on myself. The pressure becomes unbearable, and then I fall apart. Sometimes the falling apart becomes healing and then growing into a  better person.  So .. that is the season I am in at the moment. I am not the person I am suppose to be. I have become unhinged, and am learning how to be the person that most people know and love to be . . . Laura.
For now, I will give you this..
My new song.

Valentines CD 2009

Every year, I make my sisters a Valentines Cd. It's really for me than for them, mainly because I feel this indescribable urge to make the infamous "mixed tape" or now, in the golden age of technology, the mixed playlist..
This year is a good mix. Maybe it is because I have listened to all of the songs for a year now, or maybe it is because I am going through menopause early. I think I am tearing up to these songs for a different reason. I don't think, I know.
I am a control freak. If things don't go my way, I tend to get angry. I know this and have worked on it, but in the end, I still control my emotions. I have with-held the "healthy cry" for a really long time now. It seems that anything that might tug on an emotion in your heart makes it way out of me in it's dominant push for freedom and expression. I tend to hide the way I feel for most people sake, as to not interfere with their story they want to tell me or the comments they want to make.
Saturday this lady came over to my house, because she wanted to have a play-date with her son and Anne. She really said some things that were quite rude and asked me things that a person meeting another person would NEVER ASK. The things that I replied with and the things going on in my mind were contradictive, at best.

Said: "Well, my birthday is on Feb.26, actually"
Thought : "What the hell? Why do you want to know?"

On the question "are you making lunch?"
Said: "I wasn't planning on making lunch.. uh.. let's see what is in my fridge."
Thought: "Go away Go away Go away you crazy people!!!"

On the question if they could have their son's birthday party at my house. (you read that right)
Said: "Um. Let me ask Jacob"
Thought: "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE AND DON'T COME BACK!"

Then she proceeded to tell me that she could decorate my house for the birthday party.
I thought "WHAPWHAPWHAP" to the face.

Why would a person I barely know ask me something so horrid?? I think she knew she crossed a line, but you never know with crazy people.
Anyway, every time I watch a commercial that is NOT supposed to be a tear jerker, I start to cry a little. But just a little. Just enough for one little tear to start to make it out, then I stop all that whining like a little baby and suck it up.
It all comes down where I have a big blowout and then it starts all over again. Woe is the child that gets in my way.

Flight of the Conchords.

Sometimes, I pretend that I am their superfan and not Mel.
How weird would that be??
In this clip of the Flight of the Conchords, Bret and Jemaine meet some muggers on the mean city streets. They try to rap and show the muggers how hard-core they are, but they eventually get mugged anyway. It's one of my favorite episodes.
If I met some muggers on the street, I have often imagined what I would do. Sometimes I think about how I would react to certain situations, horrible situations, should they ever occur.
Imagine I hear a noise in the middle of the night in my basement. Now that I have a ninja living in my house, I do not worry about it as much. But suppose I hear a noise in the middle of the night, a crashing of glass... In my mind, I grab the phone and call 911 and then hide in the closet, closing the door veeeeery sloowwwly. Than I whisper to the police that a burglar is in my basement and hurry the hell up. If the burglar catches me before the police show up, however, I act like I have never called the police and could I get him anything?? Jewelry? Cash? a spot of tea? Whatever, because frankly I do not care about any of the possessions I have, only certain things like, pictures and my computer (which I have already hidden under my bed and under my heating pad.) And my computer is only important because of the pictures that are on it.
When the police show up, I act surprised. ("who could THAT be??") It all works out in the end.. in my mind. I never have to wake up my children or husband.

In reality I actually poke Jacob until he wakes up and checks out what that noise was... that he never heard because he worked in a lumber mill and is half-deaf.... and it almost always is our heating system kicking on in the middle of the night.


I hope HBO keeps this show around for many years to come.

I live in a scary, nice, and most of the time, quiet neighborhood.

There have been many times in my life when I have tried to tell you something, and you didn't believe me. I don't know why you didn't believe me, because Lord knows I want to be taken seriously. I desperately want be seen as an open, honest and trustworthy person.  One day Brandice was over at my house, and I opened the door, screamed, and yelled that a snake just fell on my head. Brandice did her "siiighh" and then announced that, no, a snake most certainly Did Not just fall on my head.  

Until I showed her the snake. 

I don't know how that little bastard got up there in the door frame, but it did. And it had sinister thoughts at how it would get up the nerve the next time Laura opened the door and jump on her. OKAY, now I get it... you don't believe me because I have a wild imagination, yes I DO! Guilty.   But I am most certainly honest. 

I tried to tell some people not too long ago how my neighbors must have some conspiracy against me. We put the Obama/Biden sign in our yard, and the next thing I know, they were showing off their guns, IN THEIR FRONT YARD.  Maybe it was the Obama-anti-gun-craze that sent thousands of rednecks to buy AK 47 assault rifles at the local pawn shops, or maybe it was just coincidence. One day I came home to find my neighbor across the street showing off his shotgun.  To Me.  The person who could care less about guns. I don't even know what gun-names are. That is how STUPID I am about guns. I know the long ones are shot guns, okay? and the short ones.. they... they are pistols.  or.. handguns.. whatever. 

Then a few days later... Jacob and I were enjoying the morning in our bright, sunny kitchen when we heard a loud BANG. I ran to the window and saw our two neighbors next-door shooting their.. rifle at a woodpecker.    

That's right.

     

 A WOODPECKER.   

With a SHOTGUN.      

BY OUR HOUSE. 

See they have a wood siding house, and the woodpeckers will come and peck holes in the side of their home. Some of the holes are rather large. They actually killed that woodpecker that day. 

A few days later, I looked at the window and saw them again. We live in the CITY LIMITS. We live "downtown".  Lady was walking in the middle of the street looking for that woodpecker just to show his face.  That woodpecker best find somewhere else to peck.    

Please Mr. woodpecker.  

For all of those skeptics.. doubters.. I got something for you.. PROOF. 

I wonder what's on the Inside.

Dear Lord Jesus,

Please don't let Jacob ever see anything resembling a cake like this,

 or I will be forced to make him one for his birthday in May.   

Or for Christmas.   

Or for our Anniversary.   

Or any given Friday night. 

Yours Truly,

Laura