When I got home from work Mariah and I decided that we needed to do something fun to celebrate the day. So we went to the store to get stuff to make cake balls and butterbeer, then watched Harry Potter 6. (We watched the first 5 this summer but never felt like watching 6, and we couldn't just skip it and watch the 7s so we just stopped watching them altogether. But today we muscled through it. For Harry.)
I may not be the biggest Harry Potter fan in the world, but I did enjoy all the books. They were a part of my childhood and I recall anticipating each new book and the adventures that awaited Harry, Ron and Hermione. I discussed and debated with cousins about who's side Snape was really on, and hypothesized about what everything all meant as we waited for the series to end and our questions to be answered. The 7th and final book came out my senior (?) year and I went to the book release at midnight then came home and read the entire book that day. I felt real sadness when they were all over.
So I mean, how could we not celebrate him on this, his day of birth? (That and the fact that celebrating fun little things like this and donut day and sibling day and what not just give life a little more spice and enjoyment! Can I get an amen?)
It was kind of like our duty, after all.
We tried 2 different recipes for butterbeer - and they were both delish!
The butterscotch cream was delicious!
And how do you try butterbeer for the first time without taking a selfie? It just can't be done.
We also made cake pops. And they are supposed to be snitches and Harry Potter. Although 2 of them look like Voldemort... I told Mariah that and she got offended. So don't bring it up, mmmkay?
That was all fun and stuff. But here's the part that gets embarrassing. I'll let the photos do the talking.
Happy birthday Harry!
And just for kicks:
This was the last time we honored this blessed day.