Scott

Happy birthday, Scott!  Every year, every day, I realize more and more how fortunate I am to be married to this guy. He always makes the right call. He is perfect, really. He gets it, and when he doesn't, he grows. There is never anything he does that isn't in the best interest of his family, but he never reminds them of it. He never says to the kids, "You're lucky I do so much for you," or "Everything around here is mine. I make the money." I hear fathers say things like that, and I cringe. Everything Scott has and is, belongs to me and his kids. He doesn't need thanks, he doesn't need attention. He gets the satisfaction from the giving and the providing, not from the recognition. So we sometimes forget how incredible he is! Or maybe we don't. It's evident all the time. Examples:

This was right after we traipsed two long blocks to Kaiser bakery because one of us was hungry.

Cats is back on Broadway, which I never would have known if Scott hadn't told me, and asked me if I wanted to go. I sobbed through the whole first half, just thinking about how much Scott loves me, to sit through Cats AGAIN, even though he hates it.

That same night, we went to see the New York City Ballet. Scott loves it because it's what all our kids love.

1 am, on a pizza crawl, because I said it would be wimpy to go to bed that early.

Next time we're in New York, he wants to see an opera at the Met. See? He's perfect.