What comes after 26?

This happened over the weekend:

I don't want to talk about it. But I'll write about it. This was my first "scary" birthday. When I turned 26, somehow I knew that it would be my last birthday before I felt old. 26 seemed fine to me, but 27 was a whole different story. I have no idea why. Regardless of the fact that I'm feeling kind of geriatric, it was still a fun day. (Or, fun extended weekend, because I have the tendency to drag my birthday celebrations on for as long as possible.)

My birthday fell on a Saturday (April 16) but Frank had Friday off and it was gorgeous outside so we just pretended that Friday was my birthday. I came downstairs in the morning and saw this sitting out on my back deck:

I love spring flowers and these tulips were perfect for me. Plus they're potted, so I can plant them in the ground and I will be a lot less likely to kill them.

I also noticed that this was in the oven:

MY husband, baking a cake? Yes. And it was funfetti. Are you jealous yet? Because you should be.

Then I got my presents, where were wrapped in Christmas paper. He tries.

But I forgave him for the wrap job, because what was inside totally made up for it:

A leather Michael Kors bag and a wad of cash. He knows me so well. He also got me a book, which was really cute because he knows how much I love to read.

After that, I took my wad of cash, stuffed it in my new purse and we went out shopping to spend it. I bought some new dresses for our trip to Italy, among other things. 

Frank said, "Where do you want to go to eat? I'll take you anywhere you want." And, being the classy lady that I am, I chose Red Lobster. I just really wanted crab legs, don't judge. 

We also got some extra delicious birthday Starbucks.

And Frank took an incredibly unflattering picture of me blowing out my birthday candles.

That night we went over to a friend's house to watch the hockey game (YAWN) and then we went to a bar afterward. I stayed just long enough to make it until midnight and then booked it out of there to go to bed. See, I told you I'm old.

Saturday was my real birthday, even though unfortunately, it was rainy and miserable outside. I celebrated by going to the gym and then taking a long nap. That night, Frank threw a "surprise" party for me. He pretty much throws me a surprise party every year, except that I know about the whole thing. We went to the local bar and 40 friends showed up! Frank said he counted, but I think he may have counted a few people twice. I even stayed awake until 1:30 am, so I consider the night a great success.