I often tell Cent that it’s weird to call him by his first name. To his face.
And that it’s weird when he calls me by my first name. To my face.
He always asks me, “Why?”
To me, it’s totally normal in conversation with someone else to mention him in third person by his name, but when it comes to calling him by name, to his face, it’s strange. I know, I’m weird. What can I say? The comforts of terms of endearment have taken over.
To my wonderful husband, on your birthday,
Today is your birthday. I remember when we first met and I quickly realized that our birthdays were exactly two weeks apart. And the nerd in me thought that was really cool. I know, it’s more strange than cool, but you loved me anyway. And I know you’re so not big on celebrating your birthday, but I like making a big deal anyway because it marks another year that we’ve spent together in this little thing we call life.
You bring a smile to my face, each and every day. From the time you say goodbye as you leave for work in the morning and through the moment I hear your keys in the front door at the end of the work day. And after finding this photo from a few years ago, it’s clear to me why you won “Best Smile” in high school. Your smile is totally a winner.
Happy birthday my love. Because you know what? Saying Happy Birthday Cent would be weird!
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