My birth story is a rather amusing one, although I try not to remember all the details. My mother was due at the end of May, but two weeks before his birthday, my grandfather ordered my mum to have the baby on his birthday. Apparently, I was listening.
After the doc informed my dad that he had a daughter, my dad tried to trade me in for a boy. I do not find that part of the story as funny as my dad does, oddly enough.
So! To celebrate the 32nd anniversary of said occasion, we had Ruth, Sharlan and Mike over for some chicken korma and brownies. (Not on the same plate.) I haven't had korma in ages; hence that being my choice for my birthday dinner.
Chad got me some flowers that were the envy of my office, and The Peanuts Guide to Life. Good stuff.
My coworkers in the HBO department bought lunch for Chad & I (Raising Cane's! I love that place!), and also a really good cake:
And in anticipation of the already oft-repeated joke, yes, it did taste better than it looked for the Raider fans. I noticed that none of them refused to have a slice.