little black journal

Today is a special someone’s “Larry Bird” birthday (Shane’s trying to make this super-obscure reference “a thing”, so I’m throwing him a bone). Yup, my man turned the big 3-3 today.  We spent Shane’s last birthday in Paris under the Eiffel Tower, and while I would have loved to sweep him off to France again this year, I had to settle instead on a box of goodies from the French bakery near my office.  With a little extra flair, of course…

The evening’s celebration was relatively low-key – beer and the Giants game at our favorite sports bar, then dinner with a few friends at the Mexican joint around the corner.  Shane and I have both had kind of a tough post-vacation week, and it was so good to see him grin from ear to ear tonight with each Giants run, each pat on the back from his best pals, each bite of his spicy goat stew.  His joy was contagious – I felt like it was my birthday tonight as well.

Happy Birthday, buhb.  Wishing you a year full of grand adventures, gasping-for-breath laughter (you and I do seem to get funnier with age…), and virtual high-fives from your boy Matt Cain.  I love you mucho.