He's not so vain, but this entry is about him. So yesterday was the Hubster�s 39th birthday. Happy Birthday Hubby o� Mine! Awwwww. Isn�t he cute? He was 5 years old in this picture. His front tooth got knocked out when he fell in the driveway. Most of the pictures of his youth look like this � he looks either terrified or slightly stoned. Hubster acknowledges that it may have been a bit of both � he had terrible allergies as a child, and was therefore on Benedryl� most of the time, and apparently his first words were �Stop it, Paul!� (Paul being his older brother, who delighted in picking on his little brubs.) Hubster�s the youngest of six, but he wasn�t one of those �surprise� kids like my mother was � all the kids in his family are about 2 years apart. Oddly enough, Hubster managed to not be one of those �baby� kids. I think the MIL was far too capable a parent to let that happen. Frankly, I think that by the time Hubster came along, she was pretty much done and she was like, �You want your laundry done, kiddo? Do it yourself.� I joke. She wasn�t like that at all. But MIL was far too practical to raise a needy kid. I do like one story she told me about Hubster as a child, probably even younger than he in this picture. MIL was making a cake (and boy, does she do good cakes) and it was a sort of spice cake, and the way that she made it, it baked with its own sweet glaze baked right on. Young Hubster was in the kitchen, asking MIL about the cake, and she told him about it, and then he asked �What kind of frosting will it have?� MIL replied that it wouldn�t have frosting, that it baked with a sweet glaze right on the cake. And Young Hubster got big tears in his eyes and then just cried. I love that story. Hubster�s all about the frosting. So am I. Obviously, we�re perfect for each other.
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