My Firstborn.

Born through marriage, that is - NOT my birth canal. I forget who it was but some writer once said that your mate is your first child, the one you nurture and care for first. My husband's 32nd birthday was this past Friday, and provided me ample opportunity to further compare babies to husbands.

My hubs as a youngster:

Aww, so vulnerable and adorable....just look at those sad eyes....worrying about ice cream and t-ball.

My hubs on Friday night:

Drunk as a skunk, attempting to take his shoes off.....


And telling me his balls itch.

Insane.

Craigslist.

FREE.

It was only a matter of time.....

...until I posted about the first and true love of my life, Bruce Springsteen. That's right, I said 'first' and 'true', even though I'm married to someone who is definitely NOT Bruce Springsteen. I love this man, and if he wanted to make sexy-time with me, I'd totally be game. Of course, he's got a wife and kids and I respect that....but hot damn.

Hubs knows that Bruce is my free pass. This man lights my birthday cake ablaze, if you what I mean. No matter that he's as old as my father. NO. MATTER. He is one fine piece of good-lovin', body-rockin', knockin' boots all night long.

I've seen thirteen shows and counting, just waiting for my chance.