The Brit’s Birthday

Today was My Loving Spouse’s birthday.  Thank God for the ‘dyslexic’ offspring, who was not only in charge of the sprinkles, but in charge of the creative arrangement of the birthday candles as well.  The three teens had made the cake and bought the goodies for it days ago, which was nicely appreciated by the birthday boy (?) person… man… head honcho guy.  The Teen and The English Niece dutifully whipped, stirred and baked the cake, while Number Three Son licked the beaters.

Dinner was an all American favorite, hot dogs and hamburgers, to the delight of The English Niece who is spending the summer ‘across the pond’.  She was not ‘keen’ (a very British word) on having her picture taken, but as I reminded her that her Dad was missing her, reading the blog to keep in touch and he’d paid for her ticket to come over, she agreed.

The birthday Brit had requested cricket as the after dinner game.  Being good sports we showed up to play, even though most of us didn’t know a single thing about cricket.  We quickly learned however, that we were going to play French cricket.  Why we were eating an American meal and playing a ‘French’ game on the Brit’s birthday, one can only wonder….

French cricket is nothing more than ‘fancy’ dodge ball.  Everyone stands in a circle with the batsman in the middle.  You throw the ball at the batsman’s shins and try to hit him.  The batsman can knock the ball away with the cricket bat.  We were all pretty pathetic, which actually added to the enjoyment of the game.  The silliness rose in equal proportion to the cheap whiffle balls falling apart.  (Note to self, upgrade, dollar store whiffle balls… not!).

But say what you will about our cricket skill, I’m pretty darn sure we are the best cricket team in Ellensburg.  French, English, American, perfectly pathetic and contentedly so.

Happy Birthday to My Favorite Brit!