Happy Birthday to my one and only husband.

I am a volume kind of girl, but one marriage is my limit.

Honestly, the only reason in my mind to ever get married is to procreate…legitimately.

Admittedly, I actually have one or two old fashioned beliefs.

I am not planning on divorcing.

The consensus is that men age well, becoming distinguished.

Woman purportedly become interesting…society’s way of saying that women don’t age as well as men.

 It is possible that David could be enticed by a millennial (his loss).

He was always helpful with our daughter’s homework.

But I digress.

David made me promise not to buy gifts, but I am a present ‘ho and couldn’t resist.

My birthday is in 10 days and I would never make him agree to those rigid guidelines.

Technically, since we are both May babes our gift this year to each other is a vacation on an exotic Mexican island.

This is not a drug run, but, hopefully, a week in paradise to rest and relax.

No work or worries for David or vertigo and elevated blood pressure for me.

Along with the presents, I was the perfect Stepford wife, making the bed, committing to full-time dog duty, preparing a fabulous breakfast and lunch.

Most notably, no constructive criticism.

Being a dedicated workaholic, I couldn’t steal David away for an inspired birthday playdate.

The celebratory dinner last night was amazing.

Wolf will be reviewed, but the restaurant is intimate and the food is all that.

The potatoes are like crack…addictive. Screw the carbs.

It was a joyous celebration.

Happy birthday to a terrific human being, great dad and incredible husband and friend.