I can Hear the Bells

All of these birthday celebrations have finally inspired me to write a little blog. I thought I'd tell a story of an exciting evening I had recently. By recently, I mean last weekend.

Well, it all started when I had a birthday, and my roommates and I went out to supper a couple days later. Now, this supper wasn't meant to be in honour of my birthday, so when the waitress asked me if I wanted cake, I said no in my state of confusion. I quickly regretted it, though, because I've never had the restaurant-singing thing done to me before.

But all was well and I forgot about it, until we went to Jungle Jim's for supper last weekend. The Jungle Jim's people have apparently learned a new birthday song, and, when I began to hear it for the third time, I looked at Allison and said, "Not again." Guess who the third singing was for. ME. Yah. Alison with one L told them it was my birthday, without the rest of us knowing.

I felt special.

Sorry, it's a story that I felt had to be told.

(Guess who ate it.)

I don't know but I've been told;

someone here is getting old.

I don't know, but it's been said;

someone's face is turning red.