The Birthday Girl

I went to a birthday party 2 weekends ago. I mainly, usually, occasionally dread going to parties. Especially birthday parties. Bleh. All the balloons and fun and food and excitement. Who needs it.  I have a new floor buffer.  I have all the fun and excitement I need.

Not this time. This party was one I’ve been looking forward to for the past 10 years. The birthday girl is one of my favourite little ones and this was a milestone birthday. Whenever you make it into the next set of digits and stop counting your age in “halfs” it’s a big deal.

Plus I just got my hair done and it gave me an excuse to wear a dress that I bought in Thailand and I look super-cute in it. Events are always WAY better when you’re super-cute.

I’m a size large in Thailand by the way.  No less than 5 times when I was in Thailand, I mistook a mouse for one of the natives.

So the party.  It was great.  The balloons were the classiest of all balloons (helium filled foil),  the kids were all well behaved, the cake was delicious and the birthday girl didn’t cry or throw a single tantrum.  Although she did spill a little cake on her dress.  She might have been drunk.

Aunt Jean turned 100.

And this is what she looks like.




Aunt Jean looks better at 100 than I do most mornings.  All mornings in fact.  And she’s definitely sharper than I am.  You know how sometimes you see people celebrating their 100th birthday on the news and the birthday girl or boy is kind of propped up and about as lively as a head of cauliflower?  That’s not Aunt Jean.  She ate 3 plates of food, talked to me about politics, the latest reality star news and  her upcoming trip to the Cayman Islands.  I’ve never been the the Cayman Islands.  Although once I went to Toronto Island.

I’d like to draw attention to her bling.  Rhinestone bracelet, gold rings, diamond ring, citron green beaded handbag.

She spent most of the night laughing hysterically.  She has a good sense of humour this one.  She must have been sick of getting her picture taken with everyone, but she kept everyone happy and kept smiling through all the photos.

Worried she had to be getting tired of it all I took the liberty of changing up the rather bland “Say Cheese” for our photo with a “Say Penis”.

Here is the exact moment that happened …




She looks super-cuter than I do.  Had I known this was going to happen I probably would have stayed at home with my floor buffer.  She’s 100.  I was out cuted by a super-cougar.

She’s lived through wars, the invention of the radio, television, and the death of her husband half a century ago.  And all the celebrity sex tape scandals.

The event was held at one of the world’s most prestigious private golf clubs, The Hamilton Golf and Country Club, where unfortunately for both myself and Aunt Jean … they did not serve Ikea hot dogs.



I paid for it all.  No I didn’t.

I did, however, make the cake.



No I didn’t.

I may  however, have hired this slick ride for Aunt Jean to get to and from her party!




No I didn’t.  I didn’t do any of those great things.  I, like everyone else at the party, just showed up and marvelled at Aunt Jean.

The truth is, the greatest thing about the whole event was the people. The family and the friends. All silently thinking the same thing.  I hope one day that’s me.    100 years old and still eating prime rib and wearing lipstick.  100 years old and being celebrated at a country club.  100 years old and there are still things that make me laugh out loud.  100 years old and I can still make other people laugh out loud.  100 years old and still partying, vacationing and styling.

100 years old surrounded by people who love me.

One hundred years old.

Happy Birthday Aunt Jean.



*Aunt Jean will be reading this post and comments, so feel free to leave your birthday wishes.  Watch for “5 questions with Aunt Jean” coming up on Friday.  We get into the topic of wrinkle cream.