This year I celebrated my *gasp* thirty-second birthday and, two weeks later, my handsome hubby celebrated his thirty-third. For two weeks he teased me that he “married a younger woman” and complained in jest that my old age ruined my trophy wife status. I assured him that I was still plenty a prize and he need not worry his pretty little grating head about it.
For my birthday
From my hubby
For my hubby. It was the least I could do…