Strong Silent Type

MJ is even less of a Birthday person than I am if that's possible.  For me it just kicked in more recently, but he's always been that way.  I organized a surprise dinner party for him on his 30th because it's a big Birthday and because I don't think he would have consented.  He just doesn't care that much about the hoopla.

We usually do a dinner of choice but he didn't want that this year.  I was raring to go to dinner too since I just came off Whole30 but he wanted to do a picnic and then invite the guys over to play poker and watch the big fight. 

The one picture I managed to get out of him.  Doesn't he look thrilled?

My husband is the strong and silent type.  He has a high tolerance for pain, doesn't complain much, doesn't get worked up about much, doesn't stress, doesn't get giddy with excitement, and is not a naturally chatty person although I've managed to coax him into it over the years.  I am basically the opposite and maybe that's why we balance each other out so well.  I'm a girl.  I like to to talk and sometimes he won't cooperate, but he's worked on it and his willingness to do so is just one of the many reasons I love him so much.  Well, he was really chatty that day at the park.  We picked up sloppy sandwiches from Capriotti's, wine from Bev Mo and sat in the sun talking about everything from our future house, our savings account, and our trip to Kauai among other things.  It was awesome and we had a really fun time just being together and hanging out.

You know that thing with kids, how you can't believe their getting older because somehow you've frozen them at the age they were when you met? Well, that's how it is with MJ.  Not that I think he's a kid or anything, but at four years younger than me he seemed like such a baby when we met.  He was this young hottie in his twenties and I was a sophisticated "older woman."  Okay, I don't know about the sophisticated part but I felt like I'd been around the block a few times and wasn't quite sure what a younger guy had to offer.  The years between us seemed huge but once I fell in love with him they all melted away and of course I realized four years does not a cougar make and that it wasn't such a big deal after all.   Now we joke about how I robbed the cradle and how movies like The Sure Thing,  The Breakfast Club and the Brat Pack phenomenon were before his time.  He most definitely is not a baby now, nor when I met him, but I still kind of think of him that way and can't believe he's getting older.

I made myself scarce when the guys came over that night so they could have their guy time.  I was not interested in the fight anyway and anytime I have ever gone to a "fight party" I barely even watch it.  I stayed downstairs until everyone arrived to say hello then went downstairs again for food but spent the majority of the night catching up on my DVR while sitting in his bean bag. The one he's usually sitting in.  The one I didn't originally want him to get but have since changed my mind to believe that everyone should have one.  So cozy.

I felt like the crappiest wife because his gift did not arrive in time for his Birthday as it was supposed to and I didn't have anything to give him.  I tried to make up for it by professing my love for him while we were on our picnic.  Isn't that really the best gift of all?  That was my lead in when I told him that his gift wasn't here.  Hopefully, I redeemed myself by making sure that his football jersey was washed in time for his game and laying out his entire outfit from jersey to socks on Sunday.  He said, that's good wife stuff right there, and it made me feel good because although I could always do better that's what I'm always trying to be.

On my Birthday I made a point to tell him that I enjoyed it and had a good day.  He's not the type to do that so I asked.  "Yes," he said simply and while it was not the gushing response that I might have given if he says yes, he means it and that was good enough for me.

 
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