Dear Matty Daddy,
Today you are 34. Thirty-four. It sounds so old to me, thirty-four.
I’m so young and hip. 26 is nothing. Twenty-six. HA, Mr. Old balls.
Last year, I told the internet 33 reasons why I love you. I could do it again. I could tell the world how much I love you 34 different ways but it wouldn’t matter. Telling them doesn’t change how I feel about you. It won’t make you feel more loved. It won’t prove anything. And although 34 is a big number when discussing age, it’s nothing compared to the list of reasons why I do love you.
Of course, I could also tell the internet 34 reasons in which you drive me crazy. I won’t do that either. Although sometimes, honey, you drive me crazy. It’s okay if you leave your work clothes on the floor. I don’t mind picking them up everyday. I don’t. I SWEAR.
When you opened your presents this morning, did you like how I mostly bought you kitchen related items? It’s because I want you to cook for me. Simon wanted the air pump so you could air up his bicycle tires. You might be thinking that Simon and I used your birthday as an excuse to buy the things we wanted. WRONG. As much as I think I could rock the Kansas Gang t-shirt, I’ll leave that up to you.
What I want to really tell you today is that I think we work well together, you and me. You wash the dishes. I wash the clothes. You make messes. I clean them up. You like the
top bottom. I like the bottom. You read to Simon. I read to Bennett. You never sleep. I sleep all the time. You are never home. I am always home. You check your (personal) email once a day. I check my email 20 times a day. You like milk. I like soda. You are old seasoned. I am young youthful.
Me and you? We are peas and carrots. You really can’t have one without the other. Without a doubt and unquestionably, I am so glad to have you. Besides, it wouldn’t be any fun without you.
So here’s to you on your birthday, Old Balls. I love you. Want to go another round?
Your young, hot 26 year old wifey-poo