Saturday afternoon I drove up to Victorville for my cousin, Pete Fliegner's, Hawaiian-themed 40th birthday party.

I can remember going to the hospital the day Pete was born. Lots of family members were there and they all got to go into the maternity ward to see Pete. But since the hospital considered me a five year-old germ-bomb I had to sit in the hallway and was the only one who didn't get to see the baby. I remember being indignant at the injustice of it all. I whined, I begged, I argued (and I'm sure I pouted) but to no avail. I didn't get to actually see Pete until he left the hospital.

I haven't figured out how Pete could possibly be turning 40 since I'm only 35 years old myself...