We mysteriously got invited to someone's surprise birthday party.
The phone rang.
My husband looked at the phone to see who it was. You know, because we're fancy with our fancy caller ID.
"Blah blah blah something or other," he said as he looked at it.
"Nope, not my mom," I said because I thought it was she calling.
"Hello?" my husband answers hesitantly.
Conversation ensued, I almost burned my finger off pouring hot pasta into a colander, I got yelled at by my husband for running the water too loudly, I gave him a look like, "What? What of it!" and he got off the phone.
I walked into the living room to serve us our meal (looky me being so domestic) (and yes, we're slobs who eat dinner on TV trays while watching TV).
My husband said, "Why didn't you turn the water OFF!!!!" I noticed a slight sense of concern in his tone and not that of annoyance, as I earlier suspected.
"What? Why?" I asked.
"Because you BURNT YOUR FINGER!"
"No I didn't," I said.
"Then why did you say frickin' frackin'?" he asked me. And yes, this is the sad state of my swearing abilities. I really did say that.
"I don't know," I said. "So what was that?"
"We're invited to a surprise birthday party," my husband told me.
"Oh really? When is it?" I asked.
"This Saturday," he said.
"Oh, so we're an afterthought?" I asked.
"Uh, huh? Oh. I guess so," he replied.
I assumed, incorrectly, that this was a birthday party for a child, and so I went on and on about how my child isn't an afterthought and this and that, and then I found out it was an adult birthday party that started at 4pm, and since that really bites into Mateo's wind down time, we both decided we aren't going.
That and that we're an afterthought and the couple who gets invited to a surprise birthday party a few days before it happens. Which is almost as bad as getting a Christmas card a day or two after Christmas, postmarked after Christmas just because you sent whomever a Christmas card and whoever felt guilted into returning the favor but was a tad lazy about it.