A very good day.

Today is the birthday of my very favorite person, my brilliant match, my partner in crime. I tried writing a serious post about why he's so good, but I found myself tearing up and having to delete my words. It reminded me of our wedding, when we planned on giving toasts to each other at the reception, but ended up shelving the idea because we ran out of time to plan it. Secretly I was relieved to skip the toasts - not because I dislike speaking before a crowd (I don't) or because I didn't have things to say (oh, I did), but because I wasn't sure how I would say those things without turning into a lace-wrapped vessel of emotion with a mascara-streaked face and a reception full of people feeling sorry for her. Some things are too big and too close to share with a room.

And so in this room of a different sort, I present T's heroism in the eyes of others. It's a tough job, being by my side ... but someone has to do it. 

He walks through hailstorms for me.

He puts up with me no matter what.

 He poses for pass-out-drunk photos with me.

He loves me even when I have a mustache.

He gives me tips.

He pretends I'm the only person in the room.

To my f-word turned h-word: I'm so happy you were born. A world without your humor and your heart is a world I wouldn't want to know.