Recently I celebrated my *mumble-mumbledy-th* birthday.
I decided on a new rule. For 24 hours, I get to act like a jerk. It's kinda' like the movie, The Purge (you guys seen this? You should. For one day each year, people get to legally kill. You know, Kansas style).
So on my recent birthday, I didn't shower. Hung out in my lawn-mowing clothes all day.
I swept my arm across my wife's cluttered desk, and bellowed, "That's what I'm talking about!"
I tap-danced down the stairwell, kicking accumulated stuff off the stairs.
Went to the bathroom in my backyard, just 'cause. Marking my territory.
Yelled at people to "Get outta' my yard" even though they were nowhere close.
It was good. Empowering.
I felt like those lumberjack cavemen in the musical 7 Brides For 7 Brothers, a jaunty ode to unfettered human sex trafficking.
Of course it was all a dream. A very, very good vicarious dream.
Then I woke up and prepared my wife dinner, a return to civil behavior. But it was good to be King for a while, even if only imagined.
What say you all to my new proposed holiday?