Happy Birthday Mike

Tomorrow (Aug. 13th) is Mike’s 32nd birthday. I think he was born on a Friday the 13th . . . so there is probably something spooky about him I have yet to discover. We met a little before his birthday ten years ago. We were on a blind date . . . only we were not each other’s date. No, I was on a date with one of his best friend’s younger brothers, and he was on a date with my friend -- his best friend’s cousin.

I, being the good girl that I was, didn’t think much about Mike on the date because he was not my date for goodness sakes! Luckily, he was less scrupulous and thought a fair amount about me. When he returned from the date, he told his parents about his predicament. His father, bless his heart, told Mike that all is fair in love and war. He then pulled out an old poem by Sir Walter Scott entitled Lochinvar. It recounts the story of a gallant man who returns home to find his true love about to marry another, so he simply goes to the wedding feast and takes her away on his horse. With that type of encouragement Mike felt free to go ahead and call me. I'm very happy that I got to marry my own Lochinvar.

Here we are back when we were young and innocent and knew nothing about mortgages, long work hours, broken washing machines, sick babies, etc.

Before we even knew anything in the world about him: Or could have dreamt of her:Or imagined her:Or even guessed about her: And here we are now, none too worse for the wear.It was about 20 degrees on our wedding day, but while others were shivering in coats for our pictures, I was completely oblivious to the cold. Really, I kept laughing that everyone was so cold, and it has never been easier to smile for pictures.

My dad has said that Mike is "good to the bone" and that he is one of the most thoughtful people he has ever met. It is true. I could make lists and lists of the thoughtful things he has done for me. I won't, but I was remembering today how on one of his birthdays (shortly after I'd had Goldie), I got us a babysitter and Mike insisted that we should spend our time shopping for me. I'm not joking. He knew I was wanting a few new things because I was in that post baby stage and he insisted that would be the funnest way to spend his birthday -- buying me stuff. A few days after Mike first left to GA (where he would be for six months), I kind of freaked out because I hadn't thought about how a marriage really works a country apart and suddenly thought it would be impossible. That very afternoon pizza was delivered for lunch for me and the kids along with flowers (from my far far away husband) -- somehow that little thing made me feel like yes, we were still a husband and wife and he was still very aware of our little family. Anyway, Happy Birthday to my husband. I love you. You are my very very favorite thing -- as you well know. (And, I couldn't resist one last picture of us from when I went to visit in GA).