Happy Birthday, Senor!


Senor and Oliver at Lake Michigan this spring

Today is Senor’s birthday! Happy Birthday Senor! So, in honor of this grand event, I will share with you all some of the hilarious things that this man says and does that make me laugh, and love him, even if I’m initially angry.

On Thursday whilst packing my lunch I discovered that all of the string cheese had mysteriously disappeared. We’d just bought a large package on Sunday so I was sort of confused. I pack a lunch every day and it’s nice to have pre-packaged snacks that I can throw in my lunch bag. Of course, Senor had polished them off the day before. This happens more than you’d think. Senor is always finishing things off, and getting yelled at for not leaving any for me! I probably should not yell at him for this because I know he’s usually hungry. This is what happens when you have giant man-muscles and a back the size of a brick wall. Seriously. He lays on his side, I can’t see over it. I think we could use his back as a sail on a boat. He insists, ‘not big enough!’ but really, it’s a wall. The thing is, if I was just smarter I would not have this problem. We have two refrigerators at work and I could easily buy two packages of ‘snacks’ and keep ‘mine’ at work and let him finish off anything he’d like at home. I really need to start doing this. Poor Senor, always getting in trouble.

He got in trouble on Thursday night as well. We were coming home from the gym and a storm was just blowing into downtown Minneapolis. As we pulled up to our building, we were right on the cusp of where the clouds got dark and the wind picked up. The weather man had just said, the winds were 5 miles ahead of the rain but it was moving quickly. Senor went to parallel park Gita, my VW Golf, into a sizable space. We have on-street parking only so parallel parking is not a big deal for us. We’re in the spot and I’m ready to get out before the storm hits full strength when he realizes that he’s too far from the curb. Senor has an obsession, seriously, with being ON the curb. If I can get out of the car and NOT have to crawl out onto the sidewalk, he’s too far away. The car behind us was even further out than us and we were less than 10 inches from the curb but this was unacceptable. He pulled out and started all over again. Twice. He hit the curb, it wasn’t right, there was traffic. Midway through is third attempt (me begging all the while, I don’t care, just leave it!) it started to rain. Before he managed to perfect his position, it opened up. Like, where is Noah and his Ark coming down the street because the rain is going to wash out any buildings that may have been here. Quick, find your PFD and pray you find some floating Twinkies to sustain yourself. I was having none of this nonsense and hopped out of the car and sprinted (in flipflops) up the block to our building. I was completely drenched and we were maybe two buildings away from our front door. All of this could have been completely avoided if someone wasn’t OCD about his parking! He thought it was pretty funny and in truth it was, but he still got a good smack in the arm for getting me (and my leather flipflops) soaked!

On Wednesday night there was further trouble. Senor is always getting into trouble. I discovered my salad spinner (which I bought in June and ADORE) is broken. The basket that does the spinning is cracked. It still works but you have to make sure it’s in the right spot to get it to work and it’s a little trickier now. I was trying to figure out what was going on and I realized, huh, it’s broken. The thing is flexible plastic so I’m not sure how one could even break it, really. I showed Senor, “Look! My spinner is broken!” He said, “Oh yeah. I know.” What? How did he know? Unless………culprit! “Did you break it?” “Uh. Yeah.” “What? When???” “Uh, the other night? Do you remember the other night, I was doing the dishes and I said, ‘Oh Shit!'” –> Insert laughter here <– Senor says this EVERY NIGHT when he’s doing dishes. Actually, pretty much any time he’s in the kitchen. And I always say, “What’s wrong?” And he responds with, “Nothing.” At this point Senor realized that I would not distinguish that “Oh Shit!” from any other and that he could have broken the thing any single night of the week and actually, he didn’t remember what night it was either. At least he’s able to laugh at himself though, and we had a very nice chuckle at the thought of trying to identify a specific “Oh Shit!” occurrence. Not gonna happen.

Senor is pretty ridiculous which is why I love him. Despite his weight-lifting antics and his giant muscly-ness he is not a testosterone fiend and he had no problems admitting his love of furry animals and cute puppies, kitties, water fowl, bears, etc. He also thinks that man-caves are for d-bags and I tend to agree. He hates when men call one another “Bro” or even worse, “Bra” (wtf is that by the way?). He thinks it’s pretty lame when men refer to their wives as ‘the wife’ and generally thinks the phenomenon of men going golfing is just a way to get away from ‘the wife’ and ‘the kids’ because they’re lazy bastards and they don’t want to help clean the house or play with their kids. I think he’s probably mostly right about that one. He will watch any movie with me and while he doesn’t love a chick flick, he does enjoy watching movies like Pride and Prejudice, Love Actually, and any Disney animated film I can throw at him. He even asks to watch these movies. I’m okay with that. I find his love of Trailer Park Boys to be a little gross so he rarely makes me watch it with him, even though I made him watch all of Say Yes to the Dress on Netflix. He’s nicer than I am. And while I yell at him for his general stinky man-ness and for wearing clothes with holes in them, I am thrilled that he doesn’t wear board shorts with a popped collar polo for casual wear and that he doesn’t wear designer jeans with an untucked blue dress shirt for ‘evening wear.’ Boring!

Senor is a very nice young man. He is often silly, he loves to eat, he loves his puppies and I am incredibly proud of him for several reasons. One reason, he just finished his calculus course and got an A! I could never do that in a million years. Did I mention the 4.0 he got last semester as well? He also gave up smoking and very recently, finished with nicotine lozenges as well. He’s nicotine-free for the first time since he was 14 years old. That’s a huge deal to him, and me, and I couldn’t be prouder of him. He also loves me and even loves my ridiculousness (which there is a lot of, mostly thanks to my mother who I am totally turning into who happens to be the silliest lady I know but you know what? Silly is fun!) and even picks up my dirty socks which I leave strewn about most of the time. He might pick them up, shake them at me and say, “Sockies, everywhere! You must put them in the bin!” but he’s never really angry and I like knowing even my dirty socks don’t dissuade him.

Happy Birthday Senor! I will grill you steak and feed you ice cream. Or funfetti cake if you prefer. 🙂

XO, Wee


One Comment on “Happy Birthday, Senor!”

  1. Jessica says:

    >I'll take the funfetti cake if he doesn't! Haha

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