My love

The celebration isn't over yet. Julie's birthday has come and gone until next year, but there is another upcoming birthday I feel I must tell you about.

My dear, sweet husband is celebrating his golden birthday this Sunday. He'll be 26 on the twenty sixth, and for the next six months he won't be able to call me an old woman because we'll be the same age. He gets way too much enjoyment out of that six month age difference.

If you haven't noticed, I get crazy excited over birthdays; or any celebration for that matter. Andy does not share my enthusiasm, but that doesn't stop me from pretending like he does and partying like it's 1999 whenever his special day comes around.

He has managed to crush a small piece of me though. Prepare yourselves for a shock...

Andy prefers box cake to homemade.

Now to some wives this might be a welcome preference. I know that not everyone loves to bake and would rather just throw together a mix and call it home made. But I LOVE to bake. Give me some flour, eggs and sugar and I'm a happy camper. Throwing something together from a box is the highest form of blasphemy in my kitchen. It's unheard of, and I think it's a cruel joke that God saw fit to match me with the one person on the planet that prefers box cake. But I will persevere. I have big plans for the box cake that is dirtying up my cupboard. I'm not allowed to make it taste any different, but no one said I can't make it look homemade and fancy. I have big plans for that little box of powder. It never saw me coming.

For now I'll leave you with the #1 song the day of Andy's birth.