Happy birthday, darling. So sorry this post comes 11 days after your actual birthday. As you know, I gave up Facebook this month in support of children who don’t have Facebook in Third World Countries, so I didn’t get that little reminder notification from Facebook — er, I mean Meta. But I’m sure you understand.
Remember how understanding you were on the day we took this photo? You had scheduled an anniversary photoshoot at the botanical gardens but a pre-season football game was on, so you had the photographer take photos of us in our bed during commercial breaks instead. You didn’t even make me put pants on! Which makes sense 'cuz you know who wears the pants in this relationship … Jesus our Savior! You didn’t seriously think I’d say “you,” did ya (Ephesians 5:23)??
Fellas, find someone who looks at you the way my wife looks at me. I mean just look at this photo! She had just farted and I promised her that I’d never tell anyone that we were actually laughing because it was smelly. Whoops! Sorry, babe. I don’t deserve you.
But seriously, I don’t deserve you. Don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’d have to change all of the bios on my social media accounts — even LinkedIn, and I have no idea what that password is. And who would change the babies’ diapers (they get their smelly farts from you!!) and cook them dinner? You know I only do the fun parenting stuff: tickling them, baptizing them, and most importantly, throwing them dangerously high into the air while you snap a photo of me with my hands up, ready to catch them. Do you remember that one time Noah hit a seagull because I threw him too high? That was crazy!!
I’m crazy about you, babe. And you know I could go on and on about you but I don’t want to take up too much of your time — you have a sermon to write, the one I’ll be sharing at the pulpit on Sunday. I sure wish our church allowed women to preach so you could finally get the credit you deserve. Lol, jk I’m the pastor.