Happy birthday, dear. It's been 3 years now that I've known you. Wowzas. You have been my constant friend, and stood by my side through one of the hardest times in my life, for absolutely no good reason I can think of. But I'm lucky, and glad for it, and always grateful for your friendship and your Tron fetish and your links. You make me want to be a better writer, and a better woman, and a better mother, and most of all, the thing I ain't never gonna forgive you for...you make me wish I lived in Thornton.
I wish you beers and smiles and trick-or-treats and all the happiness ever. I wish a little more I could do all of that with you. Maybe someday, maybe someday......
Today you turn 35, and I seriously cannot believe that you are actually 35 full years old. You were just a kid when I met you, all those years ago. I guess you're not a kid anymore. It's been 10 years, today, that we have been really, not so much on-again-off-again together (we're just not going to count last year) and though you have changed almost entirely and grown and learned and tripped and fell a few times, each time you get back up the core things are still there. The donut addiction, the love of all things shoe and eBay, the fact that you cannot not laugh at a fart, your taste in books and music, your obsession with Cholula and hair products....all that is still there and in a weird way defines you more than your role as a father, or someone's boss, or your demons ever will.
Your life thus-far has been some great ups, some big downs, and through it all you just keep trying to do it the best you can, to be a better man every day, to be graceful through it all. I am honored to have gone this far through it all with you, and I am more happy than I will ever find the words that my babies look like you and walk like you and burp like you. Thank you for sharing the past 12 years of your life with me.
I love you (both). Happy Birthowe'en!