by Ingo

The hubby and I happen to have our birthdays only a week apart.   Jerry’s birthday is earlier than mine and that is lucky for me because I have figured out how to use his birthday as a sweet opportunity to trick/guilt/mind control him into doing something extremely awesome for me.  This is what happens.  I throw a lavishly creative party for him that involves tons of balloons and pinatas and candy and myself photoshopped to look like a man (see below).  This overwhelms him and make him realize (if only subconsciously) how many hours I spent and bloody tears I shed to celebrate his birthday.  (I make sure to show him my paper cuts.)  The day after his festivities, a mild guilt settles in and over the course of the next 6 days, develops into panic to do something even cooler for me.  And, that’s how I get really rad birthday parties!

This year, my birthday landed around Easter.  serendipitous bunny ears showed up unplanned and voila!

The bunny on the top right went around biting people and we had to put him down by the end of the night.

The bunny (top middle) with the face tats… he scares me.

Pistachio shortbread and yalee’s awesome spice cake with caramel frosting, featured here!

Robin’s nest cupcakes with jelly beans!

After we finished gorging ourselves on meats and baked goods, Jerry made us play games.  I say “made” because he promised that stuffing our faces in baking pans full of flour to find jolly ranchers would be fun…Jolly Ranchers that other people have grazed with their tongues and drooled on.  When all of us looked at him like he was crazy, he no longer made it optional.

For Jerry’s birthday, I made him an expansion pack for the game “Heart Throb” featuring people he knew, including his dad, friends, and myself.  All the people on the cards had to be men, so I photoshopped myself to look like a man!  Upsettingly, making myself look like a man was very easy.

If I had taken pictures to document the process of getting these bad boys printed and looking legitimately like they were printed in the 90’s, you would be looking at a picture of me, lying fetal position in the middle of the floor at 4 am, crying into multiple botched copies of Cowboy Clayton.

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