Birthday letters: June 2008 Archives

Last night as Chris and I were watching political coverage on television I remarked that Alan Colmes slightly resembles a giant penis with hair and glasses. Chris guffawed and sputtered: "What an ignorant thing to say about the penis!"

This morning the Best Buy television repair man arrived half-an-hour too early at the crack of dawn (to replace some sort of filter-thing in our LCD) and we hopped and stumbled about the room in our underwear trying to put on pants and almost knocked heads like the Stooges.

Last Thanksgiving I made a big deal about hosting dinner for our parents and our straggler friends from New Orleans even though both our parents wanted to host the meal. Chris backed me up if only because we share a bed at night. Then when we went to our friends', Gravity Kills', show the night before and I perhaps (stupidly) had a smidge too much to drink because I am the world's cheapest date. I was sick the next day, in my dinner dress and apron, and Chris did not gloat. Me? I would have gloated until the cows came home, but not him. I almost wanted him to gloat, just to get it over with, because I knew that I was in his pocket.

Whenever he runs an errand or stops by the store he always brings me a Snickers because he knows how much I like them. For that I can forgive him taking off his socks in the living room and letting them nest under the chair.

I love knowing that I can always count on him, that when my chips are down; he's the proverbial prizefighter who blasts out of the corner to do some pinch-punching for me.

I believe in two things: that there is that one person out there for everyone, your soulmate; also that one person who is the only person that can put up with you for all your life. I can be demanding, I have a sharp tongue, and I know that Chris is the only man with the combination of grace and patience who can enjoy the show. (Though it's a pretty good show from my end, too.)

Happy birthday.