I just spent part of my morning writing about him, my husband, the man I’ve celebrated sixteen or so birthdays with in our lives together.
I included photos and everything. I said something about the awesome birthday gift I got him that he picked out and purchased.
It was a good post. Real heartwarming.
Then my internet crashed and all that I wrote is lost in the abyss…
And I yelled, COME ON!
But it doesn’t matter now. What I really wanted to say is today we are celebrating the birth of a good man.
A patient man. Master of the grill. Master of the kitchen.
Folder of my underwear. Fixer of broken things.
Troubleshooter of our lives together.
Yeller at stupid TV shows.
Wearer of a great collection of snapshirts.
Watcher of westerns.
A good shot.
Lifter of heavy things. My roadie.
I said all those things, eloquently. Was just about to send them out into the world…
But it doesn’t matter.
He knows who he is.
And what day it is…
Happy Birthday Husband,
Your biggest fan.