39 Big Ones

I just realized that I’m an inconsiderate oaf and didn’t acknowledge that my sweet husband had a birthday a few weeks ago.  I’ve accomplished this slight with impunity since Myke is old now and has dementia.  He hasn’t noticed that I snubbed him – or he’s polite and didn’t mention it.  I’m leaning toward my dementia theory. 

It was strange to witness Michael turning the dial to 39 this year.  We met when he was only 25 and had six-pack abs.  He was incredibly handsome and I felt an embarrassing amount of giddiness whenever I was around him.  Now his dark hair is riddled with gray and he has a larger pack of abs.  But he’s still incredibly handsome and I still experience bouts of giddiness when I’m around him.  I hope I never get tired of the guy because I sure love him.  That, and I’m too old and chubby now to snag another husband.  It better work out with this one.


We had a nice day of celebrating.  Myke’s dad and stepmom were in town and we spent the day enjoying the sunshine.  Then Myke opened presents:

And so did Eva:

His parents actually brought presents for all of us.  It’s a practice that I totally approve of.  After gifts we indulged in Myke’s favorite chocolate cream pie.  In fact, I indulged in 2 slices.  It’s super delicious and I make it for him every year on his birthday and every other holiday that seems prudent: Flag Day, Columbus Day, Boxing Day, Wednesdays.

Here’s to 39 big ones.  Happy Birthday, Michael!