35 is the new 18
My dear, sweet, wonderful husband turns 35 today. Yep, that’s right, halfway to the big 4-0. But you won’t find him upset about it. See, hubby is a complete kid at heart.
My hubby and I met way back when we were in middle school. Back then, I was about a foot taller than he was, and I could have taken him down in one punch. He was a little thing. We had classes together, and on one memorable field trip, I befriended him because he seemed lonely and depressed. That was the start of our friendship, and we grew closer during high school. He liked Dungeons & Dragons, Metallica, & Robotech. He also liked Republicans, boiled peanuts, and to explain to me why I was a hippie and how I was wrong.
Fast forward 20-odd years and he’s my husband and right smack dab in the middle of adulthood. But most days, I’m staring right at that antagonistic kid who was my friend in high school.
Not physically, thank goodness. That little guy grew into himself, and although you’d never call him tall, he’s got a couple of inches on me now. He can also grow a beard, which, between you and me, pleases him to no end. And he has chest hair, which is a late-blooming, but entirely sexy benefit of adulthood.
He still loves Dungeons & Dragons, though now he plays with our son. He may also like Metallica, but he knows better than to play them in my presence. I’ve converted him to Depeche Mode, They Might Be Giants and Barenaked Ladies. (He never has appreciated the Indigo Girls though.)
He still plays video games & still loves Robotech with a passion I don’t quite understand. (Don’t tell me this, but apparently the name Maximilian was inspired by a character in Robotech. I’ve blocked this out as I refuse our kid to be named after an anime character. We just loved the name, OK? Never mention this again.)
He’s no longer a republican. He not only loves boiled peanuts, but also appreciates and critiques them like you would a fine wine. He’s embraced many of my “hippie” qualities and has become a better world citizen for it, but he still loves to debate me (and gently insinuate that I’m wrong).
As an adult, he understands that we have to pay the mortgage and power bill before he gets a new LEGO set (most of the time). He doesn’t pout (often) when I come home from the toy store with stuff for the kids but nothing for him. And, well, he still leaves his clothes all over the floor, but now he has a sexy wife asking him to pick them up, so he’s more receptive to the request.
He calls himself selfish. But I think that’s just a label he puts on to justify his continuing love of play, toys, games, and naps. He’s not selfish. He works everyday to make our family’s life more comfortable and complete. He brings me tangible joy in dozens of little ways each day.
And every time I watch him play with our kids, I see that funny, imaginative, brilliant guy I fell in love with, and I am so very thankful that he hasn’t grown up.
Happy Birthday Sweetie.