That’s when my favorite man was born. He was a few ounces under 6 pounds and 18 and a half inches long. Breech birth. Risky, almost didn’t make it.
His name’s not really Poopy Doo, but even if it was, I’d still be Mrs. Linda Sue Doo.
What can I say about this man? The man who’s second greatest joy in life is being proven right. The man with the gruffest exterior and the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. A man who worships and adores his grandchildren, as much as life itself. A man who spoils me and puts up with more than any man should ever be required to, let alone choose to. He encourages my independence but is right there when I’m feeling needy. He’s my biggest fan and my toughest critic, but only when invited.
He can fix anything except transmissions or carburetors. He may not always do it right the first time, or even the easiest, fastest way, (and I’m always sure to point that out…) but he can do it if he sets his mind to it.
He’s neat to a fault. There is never a toilet seat left up, a sock turned inside out, a toothpaste cap left off or razor stubble in the sink. I swear, if you didn’t know he lived in this house, you wouldn’t know he lived in this house. Which may not always be a good thing…
He cooks me dinner and cleans up the kitchen almost every weekday. Just because I go to work every day and he feels it’s the least he can do. Even when he feels like shit and I try to object.
He seldom complains. He’s a trouper when he’s sick, never whines or wants babied. Even if I try to play nurse. His patience knows no bounds. And he will never admit to how handsome he is. Stubborn that way, and a whole slew of other ways… Honest like no one I’ve ever met. Not a prejudiced bone in his body. Respects women, even those who don’t particularly deserve it. That grand old Southern, military up-bringing. Yes, Ma’am.
He swears like a truck driver, drinks like a sailor, (on occasion) and has a temper like a volcano, but just every once in awhile. If a tool breaks or an appliance stops working, duck… because more than likely it will go sailing over your head. (We have found tools buried in brush piles at the back of our property, I kid you not.)
His passions are few but deep. He loves good food, the Pittsburgh Penguins, imported beers, U2 and Stargate. He’s a movie buff and I challenge you to name more than a few that he’s not seen.
And oh my God, does he love and respect me. I never quite figured that one out, but I return the favor, many times over.
Happy Birthday, PD. I love you.
“Immensely, Intensely, Honestly, Sincerely, Completely… Forever and ever, Amen.”