Today was Chéri’s 40th birthday.
Needless to say that 2020 isn’t a year of choice to celebrate a special turning older. As a matter of fact, ”celebration” is a bit of an overstatement. On top of pandemic restrictions, Chéri was working from 2 pm until midnight, which didn’t allow us to enter real party mode.
So we kept things simple.
Chéri is 40 years old, after all. Which is funny, and I am almost jealous, in a way. See, the translation of beginning your 40s in French is ”frapper la quarantaine”. ”Quarantaine” both meaning forties, and quarantine. You can roll your eyes all you want. I still find it funny.
And both Chéri and Little Bro will get a custom made t-shirt with the play of words sooner than later… (Because, yes, Little Bro is also turning 40 next week. And I am not throwing him a party either, no worries)
But I felt bad… A couple of years back, I had an awesome 40th birthday party.
So I spent the evening in the kitchen and cooked a roast beef with fondant leeks. And since neither Chéri nor I have a sweet tooth, instead of a cake that would have gone to waste, I made rice pudding. Cheap call? Maybe, but recently we agreed that it was one of the only desserts we both really enjoyed.
It turned out very well…
It’s just a shame that candles won’t sit straight on top of it. And there’s no way I could have put 40 of them for Chéri to blow out.
Oh well… I’ll do better next year.