Katie's Old. Really Old.

Sunday was Katie's bday. And by "bday," I am not trying to abbreviate the name for the French undercarriage cleaner (perverts), I am referring to the fact that she celebrated the completion of 25 years of life.

While me sleeping most of Sunday afternoon cut into the weekend's festive mood, we were able to plant the herb garden (I refuse to leave the 'h' silent and hope you'll respect my pronunciation while on this blog) that Katie has wanted for a long time. You can read Katie's description of the event here, as well as see some pictures.

I do feel somewhat guilty for taking a jab at Katie by calling her "old," but it's only fair, since every time we talk about my age (27, thank you very much) she starts into the "wow-you're-almost-thirty" routine.

So what if I find more and more gray hairlings (they're small) every day? So what if I complain about being stiff the morning following a jog? So what if my lack of a daily abdominal workout is finally resulting in the gradual increase of my belly? I'm a man! (Great video link, it's worth the 30 seconds)