Party pooper

Officially, I am my own party's pooper. I am exhausted, I cannot breathe well, I have no taste and no smell (just ask the irritated heiny of poor Noah, whose poopy diapers I couldn't sniff out today).

I decided all of this did not add up to a fun birthday celebration tomorrow. So I'm canceling my little cookout.

Within two minutes of telling David I wanted to cancel, he got beeped on his work phone that he'll be painting tomorrow. So, it looks like I made a good call.

Besides, we can always reschedule fun, and we will! Mojitos, I will have you yet...