Um, it's the thought that counts, right?

So today was my birthday. I turned 33. Oy.

Now normally, I'm not a birthday kind of girl. They don't depress me, or excite me, or get me all worked up about how many years of my life have already passed. To me, my birthday is honestly just another day.

So Steve and I normally don't really "do" birthdays. Every year, he asks me what I want, every year I say, "Nothing," (and mean it), and every year that's exactly what he gives me. I'm truly, honestly fine with that. I really don't want anything and I usually hope Steve doesn't buy me a present, just because then I'll have to buy him one for his birthday and we'll start up the whole vicious cycle again.

Well, it must have been the mind-blowing sex we had last night, because Steve decided to head to the store after work today and pick me up some birthday presents. This is NOT usual and I was pretty damn shocked (and touched) when he walked in with a gift bag.

He handed it to me and I opened it to first find a bottle of perfume. Great! I love smelling good. So far, so good.

So I look in the bag again and see a flash of denim. I realize he's bought me some sort of jeans or capris and think, "Dang dude! I NEED me some new clothing!" so I'm pumped. Steve (being half-gay and all) has wonderful taste in things like clothing, jewelry, etc., so I'm expecting something fantastic.

So as I'm pulling them out of the gift bag, Steve says, "I didn't know what size you wear, so I bought the smallest size they had."

Um yeah. Apparently, poor Steve was shopping in the Women's section (with a capital "W") and so "the smallest size" was a size 16W. Now there's nothing wrong with needing that size, and at one time in my life, they probably would've fit me. But right now, I wear around a size 10, on a rare occasion needing a 12 depending on the cut of the pants/shorts/etc.

Dude, did you honestly hold those up and think they'd fit me? I looked at the tag and just started laughing, my mom starting laughing (her and my dad brought me an ice cream cake tonight), and I explained to Steve that the "W" on the size tag meant that these particular capris were meant for slightly larger women. He said, "So the 'W' stands for 'Wide'?"

Seriously, we were all laughing so hard we were crying. [sigh] He tried so hard. And as if pissing myself due to my hysterical laughter weren't enough, my mom makes the comment of "Well, at least he didn't buy you a card for black people this time."

Dear lord, the laughter... One year (when we still bought each other cards), Steve bought me a card from a line called "Mahogany". It's a line specifically geared toward the African American community, which Steve would've realized had he actually read the inside of the card. It had several references to "dark skin" and such. And um, the artsy picture of the woman on the front should have probably given him a clue since her skin was kind of, um, brownish. LMAO!

Seriously hon, I adore you. You make me laugh and you're truly one of my best friends. But dude, let's go back to our No Gifts for Birthdays rule. Because you're killing me, hon. Truly, truly killing me. LOL!