Hammerhead turned 61 yesterday. Nobody in our office ever gets any special birthday recognition, but the grandboss bought Hammerhead a present and a card because she's such a squeaky wheel. I signed the card "happy barfday" which puzzled Hammerhead to no end.
Hammerhead: What does barfday mean?
Me: Oh I don't know. Nothing.
Hammerhead: No, what does it mean?
Me: Nothing. Just being silly.
When I came in this morning Hammerhead was sitting at her desk (even though she is not supposed to work Fridays) and pounced on me right away like she'd been up all night wanting to ask me again.
Hammerhead: So tell me again what barfday means?
Me: Huh? Nothing.
Hammerhead: Really? There's no hidden meaning or anything like that?
Hammerhead: [eyeing me skeptically] Hmm.
I hid in my office but I was not safe. Ten seconds later she appeared in the doorway.
Hammerhead: Have you been to Claim Jumpers in Tukwila? They have the hugest portions there. I'd say they're...oh...[she struggles to measure with her hands how big they are exactly]...yay big. My daughter took me there last night and I got the chicken fried steak with sausage gravy. They gave me THREE chicken fried steaks. Three! And I also had some of my daughter's bbq ribs. Then they gave us a huge mud pie, about yay high, cause it was my birthday so it was free. And my birthday present from my daughter was that she paid me back $400 of the money she owes me.
Me: Her present was paying you back on what she owed you?
Hammerhead: [triumphantly] Yup!