Happy Birthday, Paul!

Yeah, we may use apple-scented tea candles instead of birthday candles.  Yeah, our lighter may have stopped working so we never lit the candle.  Yeah, we may not own a cupcake pan so we made blueberry bread instead of the traditional muffins.

But, that's how we roll here at the Aquahaus, and it's a party here today.

So Cool It's Not Cool

So, Paul came home yesterday.  And I asked him aaaaaalllllll about his adventures.

And then he was like, "You know that one night we got a tour of the Museum of Natural History?"

And I was like, "Yeah..."

And then he was like, "We ate there!"

And I was like, "Whoa!  Neat!"

And then he was like, "Guess where I ate in the museum?"

And I was like, "...The cafeteria...?"

And then he was like:

And then I was like, "THERE IS NO WORD TO DESCRIBE THE JEALOUS RAGE I AM IN RIGHT NOW!"

And then he was like, "But...I brought you some whoppers?...?"

News Lately

So...here's what's been going on this week.

Paul is somewhere awesome.

And, in this awesome place, he is staying at THE WILLARD  (yes, it has its own wikipedia page).

And at THE WILLARD, he gets to order breakfast through room service--because there is no other option.  A butler person wheels it in with its fresh berries and fresh sqeezed orange juice and lifts domes off of plates of pancakes that are dusted with powdered sugar and gold.

Then Paul lounges around in a fluffy white robe and fluffy white slippers and pays six bucks an hour for the internet (ha!  I have him beat on something!).  After a bit, he gets to go eat four course dinners and privately tour the Smithsonian. You know, for some casual fun.

Also, eating in the conservatory room of my most favorite restaurant of the universe, the Old Ebbitt Grill.

Also, every night costs what is equivalent to 1/15 of our annual salary.  That is no joke.   See proof below.

If we had to pay for this ourselves...we wouldn't.  Because
it's not possible.

Meanwhile!  I've been staying at THE AQUAHAUS.  Where my breakfast is homemade granola and yogurt eaten out of the bowl I used yesterday for breakfast but didn't wash because what's the point?  I've been lounging around in my pajamas because I haven't left the house for two days on account of homework and the sentiment "what's the point?"  

It's a good thing Paul is coming home tomorrow because I don't know how much longer I could sustain a diet of chicken nuggets and candy bars.

I swear I say this every time, but next time we're springing for a +1 on the plane tickets.