Happy Happy Birthday Baby

Today is Dr. SOB's birthday, and in honour of the momentous occasion I thought I'd share a little of our history with you, dear readers.

My first memory of him was from seventh grade, I think. We were both big into the geeky stuff. For example, we were both on our school's Science Olympiad team. Even though we went to different middle schools, they were in the same district, so we rode the same bus to the competition. On the ride home, SOB was singing Denis Leary's song Asshole at the top of his lungs. Naturally, the teachers yelled at him for swearing, so he changed the lyrics from 'I'm an asshole' to 'I'm am anus.' Brilliant.

Ironically, it was on another bus, returning from another Science Olympiad competition, that I started to realize that there might be more to our friendship than I thought. I was a junior and he was a senior. We had just finished the state level competition, and each of us had done very well. On the long school bus ride home, I fell asleep and ended up curled up in the crook of his arm. He smelled like chlorine from swim class. It was a friday night, and the following two days felt like obstacles to keep me from seeing him. It may have been the only time during my high school career that I wished away a weekend.

A few weeks later, a plan involving some very intricate stories and elaborate schemes made it possible for me to sneak away and spend the night at his apartment. He had a Mike Seaver arrangement over the garage at his mother's farm way out in the country. I would share some of the details with you, but I don't remember much because I got drunk for the very first time that night. Drinking vodka from a plastic bottle mixed with Mountain Dew. Yummy! I'm sure it was very charming when I puked on Dr. SOB's bed. Ah, youth. For some reason, he still liked me after that and we officially became an unofficial couple.

For a month or two, we enjoyed a carefree and passionate time together. However, SOB was starting college two days after his graduation, so our future was uncertain. When he left, things with us were open ended. Then I didn't hear from him for three weeks. If I thought two days felt long, those three weeks were an eternity plus an eon. I had just about given up hope when I received a collect call late one friday night. It just so happened that out of the 40,000 undergraduate students at Penn State, a handful had phones that didn't work. This was before the days when everyone and their brother had cell phones, so he ended up calling collect from some party where he found a phone. I could barely hear him, and it was past my phone 'curfew' time, but we talked for 45 minutes. Had I been a little less giddy, I would have thought to call him back instead of staying on the collect call to the tune of over $30. At least I had my McDonald's job to pay for it.

There was no looking back from there. We spent the next two years doing the long distance thing, and as soon as we were in the same geographic location we moved in together. Two years later, we got engaged, and two years after that we got married. Now here we are with the world's most delightful boy and a new baby on the way. There are times when I get bogged down, but he's always there to hold me up. I still love to fall asleep in the crook of his arm. To this day I occasionally get a little randy when I go to the Y because the heady aroma of the pool. He kisses me every morning before he leave for work, and he kisses Sam every night before I put him to bed. I couldn't ask for a better person to share my life with. I love you Stephen. More today that ever before.

P.S. I know some of SOB's co-workers (you know who you are) occasionally show up here. I've heard that one of you may have declared some of my posts a little sappy. Well, to you I say, 'Suck it, you douche!' But in the nicest way possible, of course! How's that for sappy?