The US government officially recognized me as old on Monday, my actual birthday. We had planned to eat huevos rancheros in celebration at Los Portales, our favorite Mexican restaurant, but Leah was having some intestinal issues, so we didn’t make it. But on Wednesday, our 10th anniversary, we decided to make it a joint celebration, my birthday and our anniversary.

Leah told our waitress, who knew we didn’t need a menu, that it was my birthday, which was a very pale lie indeed. So, since it was the day of my observed birthday, she had a margarita instead of iced tea.

As we expected from our celebration of Leah’s birthday back in March, the waitress brought out a sopapilla. Only this one was a super-sopa. Leah’s had a cinnamon-sprinkled, fried tortilla with honey, chocolate and whipped cream. Mine had all that plus a heaping helping of ice cream. Here it is with Leah insisting she would have none of it.

It’s kind of blurred, which must be the phone’s fault, since I didn’t have a margarita. Here is the sopapilla, finished off but for one normal bite, mine, and one small bite, Leah’s.

I couldn’t believe we ate the whole thing, but we did, and I’m glad.

Later on at the dentist’s office, Leah and I were talking about how it was our 10th anniversary, and I did some quick calculations and realized that we have actually known each other for 50 years. Of course, for the first five of those, she ran away every time she saw me.

Anyway, we both recovered from lunch and the dentist found no cavities, so, all in all, a pretty decent celebration.