Celebrating moments

The Dude has a significant birthday coming up. As such, this requires a Significant Marking of the Occasion. Which in turn requires thought and planning and consideration. The generally accepted practice (so far as I can tell) is to hire a hall or function room (or borrow somebody’s house), invite everybody who may have been anybody in your life over the previous twenty odd years and ply them with food and alcohol. The nature of the catering varies according to economic considerations of course, but the idea is big, and bright and preferably with potential to embarrass the celebrant.

Of course, we’re not really into generally accepted practice, so that was that idea out the window. And I have a history with my gifts to The Dude. He’s very good and joining in with the things that I enjoy, so I think he enjoys the same things I enjoy. Like comedy. And carbonara. (Yes, he does actually like carbonara, but I could eat it every night of the week.) And books. Turns out, he just likes doing stuff with me because he likes sharing the moment with me. Took me at least three years to figure out he ain’t keen on books though. So now we know, I like reading and stuff I can make and do, he likes sports on TV, particularly the NFL. We both like sitting around doing nothing. We both hate the stress of the big crowded party, especially as the focus of attention. We both like gatherings with our close friends. We both like tradition.

We both like spa breaks. Significant birthday…. spa break. Match made in heaven. Match did somebody say? There’s an NFL match down in Wembley around then, and even Little Person likes watching NFL on the TV, and she loves watching actual live sports. Spa break out, Wembley NFL break in. ‘Cos it’s not my birthday, it’s The Dude’s birthday, and I know he definitely likes NFL.

And don’t panic. We will still have the party. Because the significant event doesn’t need to be celebrated just once.

And it’s not just the significant events that need celebrating. They offer a handy framework for celebrating other events. Like Little Person reaching out to give me a hug this evening and saying she loves me. (She’s big on the cuddles, but the I love you’s are fairly rare.) Or reaching the bottom of the laundry pile. Sometimes the very act of setting a goal for oneself is a moment to celebrate.

I’m very big on advocating behaviour that encourages others. I guess tonight, as I sit here typing through a haze of fuzzy tiredness, with scratchy eyeballs, to the murmured complaints of Little Person as she tries to argue the sleep away, I need to encourage myself. Celebrate my moment. After all, I’m the one who managed to bag the tickets to the game.


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