make a wish

Wednesday was Owsley's 12th birthday and I thought I'd post about it so that I wouldn't forget. Owsley is kind of like me in the fact that we don't like a big to-do for our birthdays. (Although this never works out for me because my love for my mom overrides how I feel about my own birthday, so I let her decorate away.) Since Owsley was a toddler he regularly asked to not have a big birthday party, but we always had at least the grandparents over because we didn't want there to be any hurt feelings. Gage, on the other hand, loved a huge party and often lamented at bedtime on his birthday that it would be another year before he was "treated like a king." 

This year it was just the four of us. Owsley wanted Chickfila for lunch and then we went to Dave and Busters. I let him have my point too, and he got this really cool moon lamp and a drone that actually works well. He was playing with that off the back deck for a majority of the day yesterday. All he wanted were two shirts and a new computer chair. (He has decided that office chairs are more comfortable than gaming chairs. I have used his desk for my zoom Revelation class a few times and I have to agree that the expensive gaming chair he got two years isn't all that great.) Right now he is saving up his money to get a One Wheel. 

When we got back home the kids played video games together while Peppy finished up his work day. I have been very, very busy for the past three weeks and it finally caught up with me and I passed out on the couch for two hours. Later we had cookie cake and then watched the Weird Al movie. 

Peppy's sister is getting married this weekend and we were all supposed to go to Ohio. I even borrowed a dress from Peppy's cousin that I looked pretty great in (if I can say so myself,) but.....Sheldon. Sheldon the dog who has deep-seated psychological trauma. He knows my family, especially my dad and brother, and he likes them both. But when we did these trial runs, Sheldon flat out refused to leave his crate. My dad would come to the door and Sheldon would growl and sulk away to his crate. I honestly don't think Sheldon would ever bite anyone, but my dad thought that he was going to. His growl is more like a pout. He doesn't even bare his teeth. It is just this low, annoyed sound. The day we went to Six Flags last month my dad came by a few times to take him out and Sheldon refused to go outside the entire day. So I guess I am staying home and missing my sister-in-law's wedding on account of my dog, which is a lame excuse. I guess before we go on any trips together we will have to put up a fence. 

I guess Peppy can take me somewhere nice for our anniversary since I have a cocktail dress sadly hanging in the closet.