I have never had a problem getting another year older. I love my birthdays! It’s the one day of the year that belongs to me in a sense. It is the day I can drag my husband to any chick flick, mall or unmanly activity, and miraculously he won’t complain! Birthdays are when I can eat the biggest piece of homemade German chocolate cake, compliments of my Mother, and no one comments on how I just devoured half of the cake. It’s a great freakin’ day! But sadly, the number of candles being stabbed into my birthday cakes are getting to be more than a bakery item can handle. So, is age a matter of mind? If you don’t mind, does it really matter? It’s just a number right? According to my husband I can still pass for thirty-four, but I was thinking more like thirty-two. Hee Hee! Well, whatever my age this year, I’m being told I don’t look it, and baby, that’s all that matters. So, bring on the cake!!!