Happy Birthday Mr. T!

Asher was such a grumpy-looking baby
two years ago, wasn't he?

Three years ago, we'd known each other fewer than two months, were engaged, and were less than a month away from getting married. I spent Mr. T's birthday sick as a dog on his couch, with him making me chicken soup and honey-lemon-ginger drinks by the gallon. His thoughts on the experience of me being sick on his birthday, "Love is not caring about snot."

Two years ago, we celebrated twice, once at our favorite restaurant in Israel, Bodega (yes, there's now Mexican food in Israel) in Efrat, sparklers and all. Then I made his favorite soup, Salmon Chowder, and a chocolate cake for his birthday at home.

One year ago, he was a million miles away and we spent his birthday apart. I sent a card, and I think I sent a Metal Earth for him to build (he loves those things), but it was just another lonely day apart.

This year, I gave him the most hilarious of books, and he's going to spend the morning checking the eruv, the late morning and early afternoon doing some work on someone's house, and then going into the deli for the evening. It's not perfect, and we won't see much of each other, but it's better than a million miles.

Happy birthday to the kindest, most genuine, and most giving person I've ever known. Mr. T would bend over backwards to find a way to help someone -- emotionally, financially, you name it. And I'm happy to report that Asher is following 100 percent in his father's footsteps, and I couldn't be more proud.

Here's to as many more as we can manage, Mr. T.