Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. He is oh-so-woeful because he is turning 23. Getting old is hard (ha!). I wish I was 23.
To take his mind off his age troubles, I suggest he help me clean up a bit as we are having some people over tomorrow afternoon. He hangs some pictures and attacks the library area with gusto. Within a few minutes, I realize the house is silent so I go to investigate.
I stand in arched doorway watching him fidget with a blue and black raven ornament that I bought from an artist a few Christmases ago. He had torn the ribbon from the top of the small bird and was trying to balance the thin wooden legs on one of the bookshelves. He gets frustrated every time the bird falls over.
He senses my presence and looks up. Deadpan he states, "If only we had the bust of Lenore."
I love this man and his wacky sense of humor. Happy birthday, Honey!
1 comment:
As your husband and supreme deity I say to you..........Well Hello! I love you my little buttercup! Quoth that Wifey.
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