Birthday Boy

Today is my husband's birthday.
I don't know what I would do without that man.
He means the world to me and our children.
Without him, they would not exist.
He is a loving father, though sometimes stern;
a single look from him quiets the girls quicker than when I holler and plead for them to behave.
I love that the girls only need to bat their eyes and smile, then he melts and dissolves.
He is a man in a house full of women, and he loves it.
He does a perfect imitation of a gorilla, and the girls love it when he becomes gorilla daddy.
Oldest calls him her furball.
He beams when he has all three of his girls in his arms.
I beam too.
He has a lovely shiny head and when he puts on his shades, combined with his goatee and his size,
he looks quite mean.
I have seen other men look him up and down and hold the door open for him.
I have seen small children cower when he comes near.
But I know that deep down, he is a pussy cat.
He's my pussy cat.
Shh, don't tell anyone.
I came home one day, to find he pierced his ear by himself.
A gold hoop now dangles from his pirate ear.
He loves music and there is not a moment when the radio isn't on.
We blew a fuse in the van that shut the radio off and poor man was miserable for the rest of the drive.
A fuse was quickly bought and replaced.
Peace was restored.
The music played on, no fat lady singing here.
He makes me laugh just to hear my high-pitched squeal.
He likes my high-pitched squeal.
He lets me warm my cold toes on him at night;
then I get to hear him squeal!
The man has a great palate, and I am always testing him, asking if he can taste what spices I used.
He is usually right 95% of the time.
I like to mix things up just to confuse him, but he is too smart for me!
When I take off my wedding ring to knead bread or make meatloaf, he puts it back on my finger--
proposing to me every time.
I always say "yes".
He wears the same aftershave since I've met him.
I don't like the way it smells when he puts it on,
so he puts it on at the last minute, before he heads out the door.
Just for me.
But I love the way he smells after he's been marinating in said aftershave at the end of the day.
He loves me;
just the way I am.
And I love him;
just the way he is.
Happy Birthday, baby.