Happy Birthday, Baby!!

Today is my husband's birthday. For the occasion, I'm going to give you a little list, composed on the fly, to give you an idea of what I'm dealing with, here.



If you ask, he'll tell you he's twenty-two without a hint of shame and without skipping a beat.

He can sing the first line of pretty much any show tune. But only the first line.

He loves to get me cranked up in the morning by singing some TERRIBLE seventies tune - the latest impliment of torture is "Copa Cabana" by Barry Manilow - that gets stuck in my head and won't come out until he implants something equally insidious and maddening (Gloria Gaynor, anyone?).

His hobbies include tickling his daughters, stunt-kite flying, baseball-watching and roller-coaster riding (which, thankfully, he has a twin brother to accompany him, because I sure as hell ain't gettin' on THAT!)

He can quote from The Hunt for Red October for pretty much ANY occasion.

He has a penchant for German cars, Italian sunglasses and British food. Go figure.

The girls and I love him to the ends of the earth. Happy birthday, Daddy!