Thirty-one years is worthy of a celebration, right?

Funny though, what counts as a celebration when you’re young isn’t quite as enticing when you’re… not so young.

We decided – five days after the event, because we were gosh-darn busy on the actual day – to go to Black Angus. Husband had a coupon for a free steak dinner, on account of his birthday being just a few days ago. Even better, the restaurant was by a mall, which meant we could gain some extra steps for the ol’ Fitbit.

Yep. We’re just a couple of wild ones.

Here’s something we found out: on a weekend, a lot of people go shopping.

Honestly, we had no idea. As Husband said, “It’s not like it’s Christmas.” (We’re not big shoppers, he and I.)

We did a few laps, upstairs and down, dodged some over-zealous kiosk clerks, and toured a kitchen gourmet shop. They had eight different styles of apple slicers. Eight!

Why anyone needs more than one, I don’t know.

After a legitimate gain in Fitbit steps, we head to the restaurant. Husband gives his coupon to our perky waitress, Laura.

“Happy Birthday,” she squeals. “Just so you know, you get a free dessert with your meal!”

There was an older couple at the table across from us. A woman my age walked by with her mother. Over the speakers we heard the Doobie Brothers, followed by Creedence Clearwater Revival, then the Steve Miller Band:

I went from Phoenix, Arizona
All the way to Tacoma
Philadelphia, Atlanta, L.A.
Northern California where the girls are warm
So I could be with my sweet baby, yeah

“I feel like I’m back in high school,” comments Husband.

“Yeah. But somehow not far from the nursing home,” I add, spotting an elderly couple with matching walkers.

Dinner was good. Husband had the sirloin, medium rare. I had salmon.

Toward the end of the meal, perky Laura breezed by saying, “Hope you’re saving room for dessert!”

A few tables over, five servers have gathered. All clapping and singing, “HAPPYHAPPYBIRTHDAYHAPPYBIRTHDAYHAPPYHAPPY!” and on it goes.

Husband looks at me, fear in his eyes.

“You can duck out,” I suggest. “They’ll come here clapping and singing, but you’ll be gone. I’ll take care of the bill.”

I say this because I love him.

Laura returns. “Ready for dessert?”

Husband politely declines. “I’m not really a dessert person,” he says.

She insists, adding, “I won’t sing, I promise!”

Finally we agree to take it home in a box. This pleases Laura immensely and she walks away. Husband says, “She just earned herself a really big tip.”

As we head out, Bob Seger sings us a farewell:

Someday lady you’ll accomp’ny me
Out where the rivers meet the sounding sea
I feel it in my soul, it’s meant to be
Oh someday lady you’ll accomp’ny me
Someday lady you’ll accomp’ny me

Happy Anniversary, Husband. Here’s to many, many more. ❤