Bob is 59 today. Fifty-nine.
The third son of eight brothers and sisters.
Born in January. He complained he never got a snorkle, since snorkles are given to summer babies.
Bob says he is in his PRIME. It is a math thing. 59 is a prime number.
Next year, he says, he will be 60, which is divisible by almost everything.
He has requested apple pie for his birthday. Maybe we can guilt the grandchildren to skype with us, being his birthday and all...
He only got one lonely birthday card from his ever faithful sister, Barbara who sends cards every year. Now, Bob will sign a card if I address it for him, and hand him a pen...so don't cry for him, Argentina.
In fact, if I am writing cards, Bob will agonize about just the correct sentiment for hours while I pump out ten cards to his one. I accept that about him. Bob is an engineer, and correctly worded things are his love language. Whereas, I think Ben's love language is acts of service, and Andy likes gifts. What is James' love language?? Jesus Christ had them all, being the perfect man. And some people have a combination.
To remember the five types, I put them in an acrostic:
H is for Hugs (touch, embrace, physical affection)
E is for Extra special gifts
A is for acts of service
R is for woRds wRitten
T is for Time, quality time spent
Hey, I made it up myself to help me remember.
When we were first married, I did not know about love languages nor what his love language was---even though he had written the wittiest letters all during our courtship and engagement. One day, I came back to our newlywed apartment and found one lone rose and a note telling me he was sick in bed. I couldn't believe he was very sick, as he seemed to have gone to so much trouble with the rose, and note. That was my second clue, and it still took me years to understand. I almost killed it in him, as he continued to write funny cards and notes. I did not appreciate the cards and told him to stop. So, he did. I killed his gift giving, too. He bought me a sweater one year for Christmas and it either did not fit or was not to my liking, so I took it back. So, he gave up trying to buy me presents.
He said he got a birthday greeting on facebook from Leah and since she forgot a comma, he wrote back that his hair was too short for a birthday bob. Took me a few minutes to get that one. (bob as in haircut. is it spelled bob or bobb? should be spelled boob to snark at people who take the time to wish you a happy birthday).
I am trying to be a better listener. Understanding my very complicated husband has been a thirty-three year quest, and he keeps suprising me. I don't think I tell him enough how much I appreciate him. He goes to work faithfully every day. He does all the yardwork, and repairs stuff, and soon he will figure out how to plug the frig into a different outlet so that the extension cord can be put back into the garage. I don't mind the bright orange cord snaking across the room, but I sure hope Ben comes home this weekend...ha. I have an electrical engineer husband and an electrician son. I am blessed!
Happy Birthday comma Bob. I hope you can go to the Bahamas someday on your birthday and snorkle. (but, Bob does not like summer, so going to the Bahamas may not be the place...do they snorkle in Alaska in wet suits?) To have been given a newborn grandson just four days before your birthday means we may celebrate y'alls birthday together in the future...especially if I am lazy.