He gets up about 10 minutes after I do, albeit with some complaining that yes, we can snooze another 13 times. I make my way downstairs and start my coffee and make my way over to watch a bit of the morning news. While I sip my warm coffee I, as if on cue, start to hear footsteps shuffling down the stairs and making their way to the kitchen. He walks over and stands in front of me, in the stance of a pouting 5 year old, and says “I wanted to snuggle.”
This is my 33-year-old. My husband. And I love him more than anything. For all of his goofiness. For his willingness to provide input on business matters. For his insistence that when he goes hunting he’s “working to provide food for the family”. For the fact that he’s spent the past 5 years making me smile.
Happy Birthday, Brad. Can’t wait to celebrate many, many more with you – my 5-year-old-33-year-old.
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