This morning, I sent Charlie in to wake Dowlan up by telling him it was Daddy's birthday. After sleeping only an hour late, he was assaulted by a small blond boy inarticulately demanding 'birfday cake' and pulling off his covers.
While the kids bathed, he got to clean the toilet, shower, mirrors and sinks before helping them wash their hair and get dried off. Then he made them breakfast and me more coffee.
See, I'm doing another scoring project, only I work at home for this one. So he's in charge of the kids, but has the benefit of having me around to remind him of all that needs to be cleaned and done.
A few minutes ago, I turned away from the monitor long enough to hand him a coupon, tell him that I never got his birthday present, check the bank balance and give him explicit instructions on which credit card to use to buy it with, complete with spending limit. I then encouraged him to dress the three naked, lolling children to take them with him to pick out his gift.
I'm not completely heartless--I told him he could take a bow to put on it if he liked. Also that he could pick me up a Diet Coke on the way home and that, if he wanted a special birthday lunch, he could either pick something up on the way home or buy groceries, as long as he kept it under $15.
Happy birthday, whateveryournameis. Love you!