There was an all-day snowstorm.
Our babysitter canceled.
One of the main party helpers came down with food poisoning.
Yet — husband’s big 40th birthday party went off without any further hitches. Everyone had fun.
It was not my night, not my moment. I was deep background. Still, I had a fleeting exchange that made the night for me. This night that was not my night.
Amid all the black tablecloths, balloons and “over the hill” signs, one of the party guests sidled up to me and asked: “So, when do you turn 40?”
Maybe it was the lighting.
Maybe it was the wine.
Thank you, sir.