May 22nd is my favorite day of the year. It also happens to be my husbands birthday. I like it better than Christmas, or Valentine’s Day and even better than May, 17th, our anniversary. Because if there hadn’t been a May 22nd birthday, there wouldn’t have been a May 17 th wedding day and if it hadn’t been for May 17th wedding day there wouldn’t have been my second favorite day of the year, Feb. 19th, which was exactly 3 months and six days ago, and coincidentaly also our little daughters birthday.
As we crawled into bed the other night David said to me, " thank you honey, this was the best birthday of my life." And I thought, that’s odd. It’s a Monday for one, and a compeletely uneventful one at that…I didn’t even make him a pie, someone in the Costco bakery did. We had lasanga for dinner, took a walk, visited with the neighbors, he opened his two cards and the little pile of presents I had been collectiong over the month…a jar of marinated artichoke hearts, a guide book full of hiking trails for the greater Seattle area, a picture book called, ‘ A Wish for my Husband,’ and a beer importated from Germany, that I had found at Trader Joes. Nothing at all exceptional. A nice quite evening, a lot like most of our other evenings. How could this possibly be the best birthday of his life? Naturally, being the very curious wife that I am and never having quite grown out of that stage that four year olds go through, I asked him a question that he is very familiar with: " why? "
" Because I have my girls…" was his drowsy reply.