Birthday Boy

My baby is 41 years old today. In a few years, as he gets older and I get younger, we will be the same age. lol (I crack myself up.)

He was born a few days early, possibly due to the party we hosted the night before. The last guest left at about midnight, with all the men lining up to pat my tummy and all the women making predictions about the sex of the baby, i.e., "You're carrying low, it's a boy." Or, "You were carrying high before it dropped. It's another girl." Thankyew very much for your scientific assessment of my condition, ladies.

We had just managed to get everything tidied up and crawl sleepily (and boozily) to bed when I realized that those oh so familiar pangs I had been feeling and ignoring for a while were getting more painful by the minute. I shook D.J. and said, "Wake up, we're going to the hospital. This baby wants OUT."

He was born just a few short minutes after we arrived at the hospital, before the anaesthetic could take effect (no natural childbirth for THIS delicate flower! And, I found out why that night.). My doctor told me later that if I planned to have another baby, he suggested that I rent a room across the street from the hospital because I almost didn't get there in time this time.

See how cleverly I have made Jay's birth all about me?

Anyhoo, he was the cutest little boy I had ever seen. And, he's still cute. He's tall and talented and funny, and intelligent, and sensitive and caring and, well, by Gawd, he's perfect!

So, Happy Birthday, Jay. And, many, many more.