I have been remiss.
I apologize.
In order to make it up to you, I will tell you another Allan (Creepfestos) story.
Remember how he bought us those presents? Well, that was just the start of his gift buying days.
My birthday falls the day before a national holiday. Alright, alright. I'll tell you. It's July 3. What do you do for 4th of July? Picnic? Camping? Vacation? All those options are regular picks for everyone I know. What does not usually come up--celebrate Quinn's birthday. And yes, I'm bitter. I love my birthday. It's a whole day where I don't feel the guilty need to pretend like I'm not a narcissistic American Millennial. I want a big, amazing party. I want to wear a dress. I want it to be a surprise. I want presents. But not from Creepfestos.
On the day of my birthday in the year of Creepfestos, what I wanted was to not be with Creepfestos. So we began an elaborate plan called "Avoid Creepfestos." (Yes. We are the most creative people you will ever meet.) It involved hiding in the boys' basement apartment of our house. JT (one of the boys) hung out with Shauna, Angie, and I while we watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. You know. The old one with the singing and the chocolate river that looked more like the diarrhea I had the year I had a stomach flu that made me lose 6 pounds. (Too much information? Sorry.) It took us approximately 5 hours to watch it. Because about every 20 minutes, we would hear the outside door open, which sent the three of us girls flying into JT's room and lock the door. We would hear the footsteps go up to our apartment door, the knock, and then the footsteps come down to the basement apartment door. JT would open it, pretending to be just arising from a nap (and yes...for all 5 hours he was just arising from a nap...), and tell Creepfestos that he did not know where we were, but that he would tell us Creepfestos stopped by.
That night, getting ready for my birthday dinner to the Olive Garden (cause we party right), Creepfestos found us. And presented me with my birthday present. A $100 bottle of perfume. And by "presented me with it," I mean he came into my room, said, "Here," and threw the plastic bag on my bed. Then walked out. He also came with us to the Olive Garden. Again, if I could figure out how to to that eye block out that supposedly makes people anonymous, I would post you a picture of my most awkward birthday dinner ever.
