39 years ago, my husband was a baby. A small, pink, bald, cone-headed baby. He cried, drank from a bottle, soiled his diapers, and chewed his toes.
32 years ago, my husband was a boy. A brave daredevil, a smartypants comedian of a boy. He laughed, rode and crashed his dirt bikes, made messes, and chewed his gum.
25 years ago my husband was a teenager. A driving too fast, tennis-playing, class clown teenager. He laughed, made others laugh, rebuilt his own car, smashed tennis rackets, and gnawed on his parents nerves.
13 years ago my husband was an Air Force Officer. A loud, brilliant, slightly cocky, master skilled pilot. He laughed, made others laugh, flew faster than sound, found his thrill, and chewed up the competition.
3 years ago my husband was a father, again, for the third time. A playful, disciplining, lead-by-example, loving father. He hugged and kissed, laughed and loved, and stole the hearts of his children.
Today my husband is still his mothers baby, a never-to-grow-up boy, a teenager trapped in a man's body, an Air Force Officer, and an awesome father. A loud, caring, patient, fast-driving, racing fan, air jockey of a man. He makes complete the joy of our house.
And I am the luckiest wife in the world.
Josh, my son, my baby, my boy, you have some HUGE flight suits to fill when you grow up.
But you're on your way, my husband's own Mini Me!