The time right after Christmas includes my wedding anniversary and my birthday which I share with my son. This year we turned 14 and 43. Ouch. Although, I must say, 43 isn't that much worse a number than 42, so I can deal. It's a lot of celebrating, though, and we generally 'opt out' of a big shindig. My son and I, we're anti-birthday. It's just too close to Christmas, and we enjoy being grouchy about it.
Here we are, about to blow out the candles on our cake, which my daughter kindly baked. (I'm posting this picture, if only to prove that I don't have two noses and three arms, although a third arm could come in handy around here on certain days).
I had to suspend the grouch routine in order to laugh at my son. He has a great sense of humour. I must say, though, I'm glad all the celebrating is over, and I'm looking forward to getting back to a (somewhat) peaceful routine.