happy

Happy happy birthday, Andrew dear.
Happy days will come to you all year.
If I had a wish, then it would be
A happy happy birthday to you from me.

I know, not original at all. So let's get a little more so by exploring some of the wonderfulness my husband embodies.

Before we begin, did you know that the doctor who delivered Andrew also delivered me (three months later)? We discovered this fact several months ago in talking with our mothers about our own pending baby arrival. I'd say that's pretty cool.

And now, a few exhibits of the birthday boy's awesomeness:

He will sing in the rain, and anywhere else in fact, with me.

He not only lets me take sweaty pictures of him;
sometimes, as in this case, he actually asks for me to do so.

He constantly amuses me.

And he knows how to amuse others as well.
He's great with wee ones.

He can do this. All I can do is stare on in amazement.

He's a pro in the kitchen.
He's also too nice;
he helped me yesterday in preparation
for his birthday dinner today.

He's quite a cowboy.
As with his other antics already featured,
he always knows how to make me smile.

He can grow a pretty bounteous head o' hair.

He helped defeat Zurg.
(I mean, really, check out his score,
especially compared to mine.)

Happy birthday dearest!