Normally, tradition dictates that on my birthday I would post a single picture of an Ohio State football player whose jersey number reveals my rapidly advancing age.
But this morning, I had such an incredible beginning to start of my new age that I’m going to alter tradition a bit. Miles was trying to get one of us up so he could enjoy an early breakfast. He still seems to think he has a better chance to get Mrs. Crappy out of bed, so he had walked up between us so he could better discuss this situation directly with Mrs. Crappy’s ear.
I was facing Mrs. Crappy in bed, and when I briefly opened my eyes to see what was going on, I saw this — the very first thing I would see on my birthday:

And that, boys and girls, is an awesome way to start a birthday.
Oh, the number?
I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to find uses for the phrase, “stunt butt.” Thanks for that. And happy birthday!
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Happy birthday, old man. I’m only two years behind you.
And remember, with old age comes wisdom. For most of us anyway.
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I do hope it was happy, and I’m sorry I did not get to properly fete you. Dan and I want to take you and Kel for a beer or have you over for brunch. Or both!
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Aww, he was winking at you. Happy Birthday!
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