July 16, 2008

Fiddy.

My husband turns 50 today. He's spent the last few months agonizing over this milestone. Alternately moaning and whining and being depressed. I keep telling him that age is just a number, but it hasn't done much good, he still seems to think that he's now officially "a geezer".
I bought him a bulldog for his birthday. He's wanted one for years and "Etta" has cheered him up considerably in the last few weeks. Sure, she eats like a frat-boy and chews anything she can reach - including our kid, the maid, the cat and, after breaking into the pantry, a roll of paper towels, but she is cute as Hell and watching her lumber around, farting and belching has been fun for all of us.
Still, "T" thinks that this birthday signifies that the end is near. Or near-er, anyway. So, to my geezer husband, I would like to say this: you're still smart, sexy, funny and the best person I know. Suck it up, baby and keep moving. Life is long and you're not done yet by a long shot. Happy Birthday my love, may you piss and moan through many, many more.