You have no idea how difficult it is to shop for Micah.
Okay, some of you have an idea of how hard it is to shop for Micah. He’s the kind of guy who knows exactly what he wants and would prefer not to settle for what you thought he might want. Also, he has strong opinions on all things, but mostly on how things look and feel and work. I’ve been wracking my brain for months on the perfect birthday gift that he might actually be excited about and would not have to pretend (or not pretend) to be excited about.
The answer, my friends, was pickles.
I got him a jar of pickles (which actually has been gifted in my family before), but to go with the jar of pickles, I got him a seat in a pickling class. And you have no idea how happy I am that I thought of it and that he didn’t even have to fake excitement over it. Then again, Brooklyn is all about artisan pickles, so of course it was going to be well-received.
In addition to opening jars of pickles, we spent a few hours at the MoMA, enjoyed a bit of a walk when the train had troubles, blew out candles (all 34 of them) and had cake (angel food roll with mango curd and freshly whipped cream), and then Micah and I went out to dinner while Abby (once again) watched the kids.
I think the birthday boy enjoyed his special day, but to be honest, I was pretty proud of myself for pulling it off. Especially the pickle thing.