O Bother, Its Your Birthday

Today is the 40th anniversary of my husband's birth.  I was going to have a nice, witty, sarcastic blog today, but instead I would rather spend the time with him.  Wait, he's on the couch with ESPN on the TV.  Maybe it's best to just leave him be to do what he wants.  He seems happy at the moment.  If I go over there and bother him, he will most likely want to turn the channel to something that won't put me in a coma.  I would feel bad if he did that when he seems so content watching his little sports channel.  But then again, I'm sure he'd love to have me over there snuggling with him on the couch.  He looks quite comfortable by himself though.  If I go over there, he's just going to feel like he has to resituate himself so that I am comfortable too and why should he have to do that.  It is his birthday.  There's only ten minutes until we have to leave anyway so I guess I'll just finish up this blog posting and . . . well, now I'm done.  But if I stop typing he'll wonder why I'm not coming over and I'll feel all bad.  Then he'll feel all bad and I don't want him to feel all bad on his birthday.  So I guess I'll just keep typing so that he hears the noise and . . . wait . . . he's coming over here.  Oh, its time to go.  Problem solved.  Happy Birthday Hubby!