This birthday is a pretty big deal.

I have a picture in a dusty photo album of The Tall One to Whom I am Married and he's holding up four fingers on one hand and making a zero with the fingers on the other hand and because those were the "old wooden days," like The Short One says ... before digital cameras ... we couldn't see until it was developed that it looked like he was telling us all he was 0.4. Or maybe that it WAS '04. But, that wouldn't make sense at all. Because that was 10 years ago. But, the cheesy grin between the birthday digits said "I've had three Hula Hut margaritas and I might should've stopped at two." However, those were also the days before children when we would wait 2.45 hours for a table, fill up on 'ritas, chips and mango salsa, decide we didn't need real food and start ending the night on coffee. And we have never been much for staying up late, so we'd call it a night, but we are VERY much for SLEEPING late, so we took advantage of that in the really old days.
This year. This birthday. It's a whole lot less about margaritas and late nights and a whole lot more about homemade chocolate cake, the birthday "ABC's" hung on the wall by Ones Big and Short, gifts he NEEDS instead of those he WANTS (tho' I think one present is going to make him do the happy dance!) and five fingers on that birthday hand instead of four.
The AARP has already come calling. He's not answering. He's a grandfather. But, that really just makes him that little girl's Poppa. He's a Daddy. And he's the very best one. He's an adored son and brother who equally adores his loving family. He gives so much to those he loves that, frankly, it'll make you barf. He is totally perfect at being totally imperfect.
And it's his birthday today. He's 50. Happy. Dance.