Happy Birthday, Dairy Man

Today is the dairy man’s birthday. On this special day he sojourns forth at the ripe old age of 27. I’m just glad he’s older than me again. I always liked older men. Wait … that came out weird.

Anyway.

It’s already been an eventful birthday for my poor farmer. A severe thunderstorm rolled through our area last night and wreaked some havoc on the dairy. A mere hour and a half after the clock struck midnight (happy birthday!), the DM was out on the dairy getting the generator started.

In addition to losing power, we had a puppy that decided his lifelong fear of thunder should transition from terrified cowering in the closet to furious barking and running in circles. Incessantly. For hours. We tried putting Jersey in our room, in the kitchen, in his crate, out of his crate. He even donned the snazzy Thundershirt we bought a few weeks ago.

But to no avail. We soothed, we yelled, we ignored, but when all was said and done, Jersey barked himself silly and we lost at least three hours of sleep.

Did I mention DM also had to get up before 6:00 to deal with our bulk tank? Oof. Needless to say, he’s going to be dragging on this birthday. Oh, farm life. How you torment us.

Despite my bleary semi-conscious state, it’s important to make the dairy man feel special today. In that vein, I’ve written him a little note. Feel free to peek over my shoulder.

Dear hubs,

I’m not always the best wife. The laundry can pile up. I sometimes cook more chicken than beef (the nerve!). I drink skim milk (the horror!). I don’t always accept the dairy’s prominence in our life with grace. I can be stubborn, opinionated, and impatient.

But on this day, your birthday, I want to thank you. Thank you for taking the dog out when it’s raining. Thank you for rubbing my shoulders when we watch TV. Thank you for saying that my new recipe “definitely isn’t terrible” when you don’t like it. Thank you for caring about the weeds in our yard more than I do. Thank you for filling my head with thrilling cow facts.

Thank you for blearily waking up long enough to tell me which shoe looks best with my outfit. Thank you for biting your tongue when I go overboard at Target. Thank you for your levelheadedness and your faith. Thank you for killing spiders. Thank you for working so hard to build a life for us. Thank you for being kind, hilarious, inspirational, patient, ambitious, and wise.

Thank you for being my best friend, partner in crime, and confidant.

You are my love, my family, and my dashing karate kid.

Happy birthday, dairy man.

I like you.