Birthdays are of the Devil

Another year has passed and now Donny is another year older.

37 years older to be exact.

Last year we spent Donny's birthday in the hospital with Madilyn who was having yet another surgery, while he and I nursed ourselves back to health from our ravaging strep throat.

Happy to say this year, no hospitals, no surgeries, no strep throat (I am knocking on wood as I type this!).

And while Donny and I may be getting older, he thankfully is still older than me, we are getting smaller and smaller. We have been working our hinnies off, well, I have been working my hinny off, Donny doesn't have a hinny to work off, but he does have a gut, well, he used to have a gut, he has been working it off!

Did that sentence combine enough fragments to even make sense?

Anyway, Donny has lost almost 50 pounds of belly fat and I have lost almost 80 pounds of belly, booty, thigh, back, arm, face, neck, hand, feet, fingers and toe fat.

Together we are the incredible shrinking couple. And we are still going. Everyday. No mercy!

So when birthdays come around, especially Donny's, problems arise for the incredible shrinking couple. What is a birthday without an ooey-gooey chocolate birthday cake? Now I opted out of having a birthday cake this year. Yes, cause I am THAT good. But Donny, well, the man loves chocolate. So as a faithful dedicated good little wifey, I made the ooey-gooey chocolate cake for my man.

And let me tell you, it is of the devil!


So there it sits, half eaten, half left, getting ooeyer and gooeyer every minute.

Have I had a piece?

NO!

And I have no intention of having a piece. Yes, cause I am THAT good!

Now I know what you are all thinking. What is the point of living if you can't even enjoy a piece of your husband's birthday cake, even if it is of the devil. Well, the point is, umm, yeah, I don't know yet. I know there is a point somewhere. When I figure it out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I will not be partaking of anything that is of the devil!