The Magic Words


Recently, I learned THE magic words, from my beautiful and brilliant friend, Rosemary. No, the magic words aren’t, “I love you,” although those are good words, too. No, they aren’t, “I’m absolutely wrong and you’re absolutely right,” although these are also among my favorite words to hear—but not to say—ick! Basically, Rosemary was running down a teensy weensy, little bitty list of completely reasonable demands. When those demands were received with some slight hesitation, Rosemary then said the magic words, “It’s my birthday week!” I know, right? Like I said, brilliant!

So last Sunday, I began saying (repeatedly): “It’s my birthday week!” As a result, here’s how the week shaped up:

I did some birthday lake-lounging while reading—for several days—until the sun went down.


 On the way home…

My husband and I enjoyed a fabulous birthday couples’ massage.
My mom took me out for a super-fun, four hour birthday-lunch! (To our server: I’m sorry . . . but it’s my birthday week!)

My dad, stepmom, and sister had me over for the best birthday-dinner. (The best birthday-dinner consists of hamburgers and french fries, if on the inside, you’re still twelve—ish—which I am.) You’ll just have to take my word that these family members exist, since they wouldn’t like having their photos posted here—or anywhere, I think—whenever we visit Cracker Barrel, my stepmom takes a few minutes to feel sorry for the poor unsuspecting souls whose photos ended up on the walls there. (Note to self: Do not honor your stepmother by putting her photo on the wall of the local Cracker Barrel.)

But don’t worry: I wouldn’t expect you to take my word on the all important issue of birthday cake! Here it is!


This Baskin-Robbins chocolate-mint ice cream with chocolate cake has been my favorite for forty years now—everybody else in my family says they’re a little tired of it, but I’m not . . . and it’s my birthday week! (I’m told the question mark candle was chosen to prevent the small house fire that forty candles were sure to start—safety first, friends.)

Why, I even rated a tiara—A TIARA!!!—from my sister, who obviously fully comprehends the concept of birthday week!

OF COURSE I look good…because I’m wearing a TIARA!!! With feathers!

Other thoughtful birthday gifts, flowers, and cards arrived all week long!

Even Lula Bell popped up to wish me a happy birthday!

And finally, Sunday brunch with girlfriends wrapped up my birthday week perfectly!

Yes, I highly, highlyrecommend using The Magic Words! Unfortunately, you have to wait until the week of your birthday. Otherwise, when you say to your people, “It’s my birthday week!” they—predictably (eyeroll)—respond, “No it isn’t.” Which is pretty rude if you ask me, but . . . well, either wait for your birthday or get some new people. Every week.

As for me, here’s what I’m thinking right this very moment: 51 weeks until my birthday week!

Thanks, Rosemary! 

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