Mitch here!
Kelly doesn’t know I’m writing this post and it’s days like this when I could end up losing my password privileges. You see, we’re one of those weird couples who basically have the same birthday. Kelly’s is today and mine is Thursday, and while I’m not a scientist or anything, I’m pretty sure that makes her older than me. So today I hacked into her website to give my senior counterpart (who’s hundreds of thousands of seconds older than me) the day off to rest her tired bones. She deserves it. She’s the most amazing person I know. And she’s older than me.
Kelly once told me that she thinks of her birthday as a happy little secret she gets to carry around all day. She almost rejoices in the fact that she can keep it all to herself… and here I am blowing up her birthday secret all over the internet. The problem is that–and this is tough for me to admit–I’m a birthday fanatic. I LOVE birthdays. At my age (which is not technically as high as my wife’s), it’s easy to be jaded about most things, but birthdays to me are just as important as they were when I was seven. Honestly, they might be more important now. Seven-year-olds get to have fun all the time.
I’m taking it upon myself to give Kelly the best birthday she can imagine. And that’s no easy feat. Kelly’s still super-duper sick and she has a doctor’s appointment right in the middle of the day. So I’ve planned multiple, redundant sequences of events ranging from “ambitious” to “lazy” to appeal to her particular birthday mood. I won’t mention any of the plans here since the likelihood that we’ll do even a single one of them is low, but still. They are planned. :)
Emma getting ready for the big day. 😂👍
Kelly’s a special person and it’d be impossible to give her the birthday she deserves. She throws herself into each and every day with skill and generosity. She’s whip-smart (despite being older than I am), absolutely gorgeous, and incredibly caring. She impresses me everyday with her dedication to her craft, her family and her friends. Honestly, she runs circles around me. She’s like a super human. I still remember the moment I first saw her in those yellow rain boots walking to work in the Bronx, and all these years later, she continues to surprise me each and every day.
I’m a lucky dude.
So, Kelly J., sorry that my “love language” is birthdays. I hope that through some miracle, I’m able to give you the day you deserve. There’s a huge pile of candy and presents for you on the table. Emma’s been practicing the birthday song for weeks and she’s got it down. With any luck, we can tiptoe around the house and let you sleep in all morning.
We love you! Happy birthday, Kelly!
Mitch. Out!
