To The Birthday Boy

Dear Husband,

I love you.

Madly.

Today you turn 23.

Happy Birthday Sweetie!

If I had planned it out better, I would have borrowed my sister's ukulele. Learned how to play it. And sung you this song:

YOU AND I

Written by Ingrid Michaelson

Don't you worry there my honey

We might not have any money

But we've got our love to pay the bills

Maybe I think you're cute and funny

Maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you if you know what I mean

Oh lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance

Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I, you and I

Well you might be a bit confused

And you might be a little bit bruised

But baby how we spoon like no one else

So I will help you read those books

If you will soothe my worried looks

And we will put the lonesome on the shelf

Lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance

Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I, you and I

Lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance

Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I, you and I

you make me all sorts of happy.

xoxox

your wife