The spousal unit woke up before me, so he was already downstairs chewing on his toast spread with almond butter and blueberry jam when I scampered down the stairs with his birthday prezzie bag.

He looked up from the Harper's magazine propped up by his plate, peering over his reading glasses at the festive bag.

"Would that be the famous 'thing'?"

I was practically wriggling with puppy like joy, I was so excited. Yesterday afternoon I had basically shoved him out into his workshop so I would have the house to myself and get the transfer ironed on the tee shirt. I was dying to see his reaction to Moviegrrl's classic design.

I wished him a happy birthday and thrust the prezzie bag into his hands.

The spousal unit opined that it would probably be better to open it after he was done eating so he didn't get any food on his gift. I think he does stuff like this just to torture me. I watched him methodically munch on his toast and sip his tea, mentally urging him to Speed It Up Because Neither Of Us Is Getting Any Younger.

FINALLY he turned to his gift. He opened the card and read the little birthday letter I'd written him. It was disgustingly mushy. Remarks were made about how touched he was by it. It took all my self-control to smile graciously. What I really wanted to do was yell, "Could we speed things up here a little? COULD YOU JUST OPEN THE FREAKING GIFT?"

With painstaking care, he lifted the tissue off the top of the prezzie bag. Slowly he fished out the rolled up tee shirt. At this point I was ready to snatch it out of his hands and start beating him with it.

Oh yes, I am all about the mellow birthday love.

The spousal finally unfurled the tee shirt and when he saw the graphic started to laugh. A lot. He modelled it and went outside so a picture could be taken commemorating both his 50th birthday and this insanely late snowfall.

I still can't get over walking out the door again this morning to a world of white, eh.

And him? Well, he can hardly believe that strangers we don't know briefly crowned him Google's "Mr. Wangitude" and even pitched in with tee shirt ideas. He's appalled, tickled and bemused by this odd turn of events and thinks it's probably one of the goofiest things that will ever happen to him.

As I sifted through the pictures I took of him this morning I was struck by the way he was looking at me.

Is this affection? Bemusement?

Oh well, at least he's smiling, right?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 225.13 miles (362.2 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers