Don’t Tell

The other day, my husband dropped Younger off with his friend of the poppy seed muffin fame. (Secret Family Recipe)

He came home with two jars of homemade jam.

Eyeing my husband and the jars suspiciously, I asked, “What secrets did you give up now?”

“No secrets. Just your birthday.”

Well, my birthday isn’t a secret, I guess. I don’t exactly advertise the age, but I’m not afraid of a little number.

The big numbers, now those are terrifying.

Maybe a little homemade jam on a biscuit will blunt the fear.

Or a lot of homemade jam.

Straight from the jar.

You know, either way.

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