My husband's birthday was yesterday. I would wax horribly sappy and romantic, but that's not the kind of woman I am.
Instead I am just thankful that he can deal with my frequent irritated moods, my desire to cook things that are really bad for you (umm, the smitten kitchen peanut butter cake was the last one), and that he doesn't make too much fun of my coffee drinking.
For his birthday, I took him to see the Bruins v. Penguins game. Before the game as part of his birthday present, he got to ride the zamboni. The zamboni is one of the coolest things about hockey (I really do like hockey a lot, but blood on the ice is probably the coolest thing about hockey).
There are two zamboni rides offered at a time: before the game starts and in between the first-second period and second-third period. Because the other person who was signed up for a ride during our time slot didn't show up, I got to ride the zamboni too.
Riding the zamboni is an unusual experience. They look like they are just putting along when you are watching them work, but on the ice it feels pretty fast and sharp turns. My hubby broke his zamboni. The lever that releases the hot water had fallen to the wrong position, and one of the other members of the ice crew ran up to the machine and gave it a little percussive maintenance as it was moving down the ice.
I love experiences like this. It's just not your run of the mill: Hai, I made a cake for you, but I eated it.
Happy birthday, honey. You deserve all of it!
