Tomorrow is Christopher's 29th birthday, and his first (non-weekend) day of Christmas vacation. He's pretty giddy about this, and his requests for his birthday sound more like a 8-year-old's birthday than one befitting a man nearly thirty.
"I want dinosaur sprinkles on my cupcakes! No wait, I want a robot birthday cake!"
"I want to spend the whole day building robots out of Lego. I'm going to open my present as soon as I wake up in the morning."
And so. I've just finished baking a dozen cupcakes that have dinosaur sprinkles inside them. I'll ice them in the morning and then try to pipe pictures of boxy robots on the top, so that he can have Robot Dinosaur* cupcakes. And he's declared that he's waking up at 7:00 in the morning, so he can get an early start on his robot-building. (He would wake up at 6am, but he wants me to see him open his present, and so he's waking up a whole hour later as a concession to me.)
And I'm so glad. It sounds like the best Christopher birthday ever. I'm going to enjoy finding little things to make the day even nicer, for the best man I've ever met, who makes me laugh every day and always knows when I need a hug before I even do. Happy birthday, Mr. Christopher.
* They say "Beep beep boop boop ROAR!" And we seriously talk about Robot Dinosaurs constantly. And speculate on "which mammal's milk would be the weirdest to use for making cheese." (My answer: bats. His answer: chimpanzees.)