Monday, December 28, 2009

Happy Birthday. Peanut Butter.

On this day many years passed, a child was born.
The Lord saw he was good and declared him the Mister. Or, at least, the future Mister.

Pint size us

I snagged him early.

Case in point: this was a few days before his 22nd birthday.

Ten years later.

So, buddy dude, I loves you. You're the pb to my j. We both know it's true.

Happy Birthday.

(Track me down later. I'll give you birthday kisses. Plural.)


  1. Yum. Macaroni and cheese. (Umm you didn't talk about that. But pb and j reminds me of mac and cheese. so yeah. That's where my mind went.)

  2. Happy Birthday, Mister. Even though I already wished you that I figured it should be repeated. Also way to snag your wife early, but I'm pretty sure there are laws against that now.