Today is Andy's birthday. It's funny how - when you're young - another birthday, another year older, is such an exciting time. You tell everyone how old you are, it defines you. I mean, as soon as you meet Catherine, she tells you her name is Catherine and she's two (holding up two little stubby fingers). If you were to see Andy today, I doubt he'd announce that his name is Andy and he's thirty-six (oops, did I just let that slip out?).
Once you hit oh, 30 or so, you really don't want to even acknowledge your birthday. You just want to let it slip on by, pretend it isn't happening. I guess you feel that way until you reach, say, 80, when you start getting excited about having birthdays again.
So even though I'm sure Andy would rather this day go unnoticed, we're not going to do that. Because we don't want to miss an opportunity to make him feel special. And remind him how very much we love him. And how happy we are that he's ours.
He may be on his way over that proverbial hill, but I'm sure glad I get to go on the journey with him. Actually he'd be the first to point out that I'll make it over before he does, by about a year and a half.
Happy Birthday, Andy!