I spent the last two-plus weeks biting my tongue, creating elaborate little white lies, and silently shooting daggers at various friends and neighbors and relatives in an attempt to keep quiet the details of my husband's 40th surprise birthday party.
In the end, he figured it out. Or, at least, his sh-- detector went off. Someone who was invited but couldn't come had seen Tim earlier in the week and made some off-hand comment that clued Tim in. I think he still had fun, though. His college roommate showed up from St. Louis to join in the festivities, as did a heap of friends and coworkers and their families. Good, kind, generous friends who live on an acreage, with a party barn and bonfire pit and a love for fireworks, hosted the shindig. A friend's wife baked an incredible Tour de France themed chocolate-chip cake -- white fondant, covered with big red polka dots (in honor of the polka dot jersey the best climber wears at the TDF) and Happy Birthday Tim in the TDF logo font, complete with the R shaped like a biker -- AWESOME! If you're ever in need of a fantastic cake, check out her site and see a pic of Tim's confectionary delight: Cakes by Clair)
We had a blast. Pictures will follow...once those kinds souls who took pictures for me have time to upload them. What to do when the photographer is the one we need photographed!
I hope that Tim realizes 40 is just a number. You're only as "old" as you feel. I'm not sure how old Tim felt on Friday afternoon, after riding 100 miles on his bike, but he made the rest of us feel like incredibly unaccomplished slugs. If you can do THAT at ANY age, bully for you. You've got my vote!