Happy birthday!

I prefer the hard-bitten and cynical writing style (or at least bitter and whiny), but I'm going to try to change direction for just a minute to say happy birthday to my wonderful husband.

I've read that the failure rate for second marriages is way higher than for first - up to 80% - but I can't imagine us anywhere but together. I think every day about how lucky I am. My husband is incredibly kind, more patient than anyone I know, and absolutely hilarious. He's an amazing father and a generous husband. He supports me in everything I want to do, even when I'm off my rocker (I suspect that he supports me more when I'm off my rocker, because it amuses him).

Not to say he doesn't drive me crazy sometimes. For example, he refuses all responsibility for turning off the light in our room at night, even when he is the last one to bed. He thinks that it should be my job, because it's on my side of the bed, but it's too high up for me to reach and I'd have to get out of the covers and sit up to turn it off, rendering side of the bed irrelevant. The other night, he tried to wait me out, so I got out of bed and went over to his side. He sleeps with a CPAP machine, and my intention was to pull the hose out so he couldn't breathe. Unfortunately (for him), I don't know my own strength, and I pulled the whole machine onto his head. Whoops! That'll teach him.

So, everything is not always perfect, but it's always interesting and never lonely. Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you.

Damn, you're getting old.