Happy Birthday! Enjoy the next six weeks. I love it when I am your younger woman and I only get it for a few fun weeks a year.
I love it when your birthday rolls around because there is nothing I would rather celebrate than you. You are just one jolly good fellow.
If I could sum up your life in one sentence I would say "to know him is to love him." I sure do!
You make me laugh every day. Sometimes when I am in a room I just start snickering to myself remembering what you said three days ago.
You are my favorite part of the day. When I put those rascals to bed all I want is to curl up under your arm and let the world dissolve. No one but me and you.
In the middle of Lowes yesterday I was missing you. It might have been that new steel, new paint, freshly cut wood smell that reminds me of you but I just stood there and thought how much I would love it if I could look up and see your smiling face coming down the hardware aisle.
And ten daydream bonus points if you had grabbed my face and kissed me slow right in front of the wrench gift sets.
Yeah, who knew? I'm surprised, too.
I will never get used to you.
I will never outgrow that seventeen year old crazy in love can't get enough of you feeling.
I guess young love just never, never gets old.
Even when we do. (Yikes! I found my first grey hair this week!)
I know you're blushing now and thinking, "Oh brother, Tapper, people will read this."
You are so cute when you're modest. You have taught me so many wonderful things in the past thirteen years. And one of them is discretion. I'm seriously better now, don't you think?
Ten years ago I would have gushed a lot more.
But no one would blame me. I've got a lot to gush about.
I've got you.
Lucky, lucky me.