Today is J.R.’s twenty-seventh birthday. As with every other birthday since he turned fourteen, he spent the morning deer hunting (November 15 is opening day of firearm deer season in Michigan). He did not get a deer, but that’s okay. We have two bucks mounted on our walls from previous years of hunting success, and there is venison in our freezer from another year, should he develop a craving for it.
Mostly, I tried to let him enjoy his birthday/rare day off from work. He was able to read a magazine with relatively few interruptions, their was Chinese food (his favorite) for dinner, and some quality family time.
Since it’s his birthday, I will briefly sing a few of J.R.’s praises: he is a great father, awesome cook (he routinely makes dinner a couple of times per week, despite having worked a full day – how great is that?), good friend, and concerned citizen in general. When I met him, over twenty years ago, and even in high school, it never occurred to me that one day he would be my husband, but he was a good friend to me always and “loveable” in a friend sort of way. I’m so glad that he is still the same person, only better, all these years later.