It was a good one.
It started out like this....I got to go to the doctor and have my first sonogram. And see a heartbeat. That was all I really wanted for my birthday - a healthy heartbeat. And I even got a souvy to take with me.
Then I waited the rest of the day for my "party". You see, everyone here gets a party, so I knew mine was coming. It's just that no one would tell me when or where. So mysterious. Especially when Dustin told me I had to wait at home for them to "come get me." Which is strange considering the volunteer house is only about 50 paces from our house.
Then I found out why.
Those creative volunteers had managed to completely surprise me.
The theme: French Artist.
The costumes: Everyone wore stripes and mustaches, with a few berets.
The transportation from my house to theirs: A laundry cart converted into a boat, complete with a french-speaking, rowing, mustachioed chef as my guide. We even had a minstrel following behind us playing nice frenchy music on a guitar. He was even from the African country of Cameroon, which made him the only authentically fluent french speaker there.
When we arrived I got a mustache and strawberry birthday cake with one sparkler - my favorite garnish.
There were even fresh crepes being whipped up by the resident Canadian, and therefore only other French-speaking person in the group.
And then we announced the good news - that there was another one on the way. Everyone of course was surprised. And happy. And probably wondering what the heck we were thinking since this is now our core group of babysitters.