When I met you, you were 21 and full of ideas and sarcasm and love.
Today, you start the last year of your 20s, and you’re full of ideas and sarcasm and love.
You’re my very favorite person in the whole entire world, and I know I’m lucky every single day that you picked me.
Happy Birthday, sweetheart!
(and, so this blog is fun for readers, too, here’s a side-by-side comparison of Little Mack and Big Mack. I think he’s always been a stud!)