My baby!

Today is our son Dan's 46th birthday.  My baby!  My six foot whatever.  He says 6'4", his dad says 6'5", and I say 6'6".  He's a big guy.  And a wonderful one.  His life has been quite a journey and we're button busting proud of him.

Of course, you realize, the years between our ages are getting smaller all the time.  How could I become a mother at such a young age?  I'm getting so old, I can't own up to my age when I had my first son, let alone my second.  Let's just say I was a child bride (NOT) and move on to other subjects. The day may come when they'll admit to being older than me.  Not saying I intend to lie about my age, but...

We don't get to see Dan's family very often.  They're in Tulsa and we're in Florida, but we did have a grand time with them last December when Bob and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary.  For those of you who've seen my daughter-in-law's Facebook, or get my Christmas letter, you'll see pictures.  I would here, but still haven't learned how.  

Dan's the one who encouraged me to get involved with Facebook.  Tina tried, but I soon gave it up. Seemed ridiculous to me, but Dan said when he joined classmates started popping up all over the place.  The older I get, the more I enjoy memory lane, so I was convinced to rejoin.  Trouble is, so many people my age are retired and have no desire to engage in electronic media, so I haven't found a whole lot of classmates.

Have made some wonderful acquaintances all over the rest of the world, though.  Kenya, Africa; Bolivia, South America; West Virginia, USA.  That much has been great.  And humbling.  Everyone is so good at this stuff and I'm still stumbling along, huffing and puffing, trying to catch up.  Never happen.  What I learned today was obsolete years ago.

Uh oh.  Spoke too soon.  I've been gratefully bragging on the topical cream that's kept my fire ant bites from itching.  It may have just delayed it.  The desire to scratch just hit with a vengeance.

Anyway, a very, very happy birthday, Dear Dan.  And many, many more to come even if it does tell on your mother's old age.  Love  you, Son.