S is for John...'S birthday

So for those of you who have been here all month, you might have noticed that my big sister's birthday was on April 1st, and you're thinking "Wow. That family ate a lot of cake in April."

You don't know the half of it.

Of the eight members of our immediate family (not counting spouses, children, etc), seven of us had birthdays in April, May, and June. Seven. Dad was the only original birthday boy, with his birthday about as far removed from the rest of ours as it possibly could be. Mine was fifth in line, so I stopped asking for cake and started looking for more creative birthday desserts. Contrary to popular belief, you can actually eat too much cake.

Lance and Ray, the first two brothers-in-law to join our family, share a birthday, a month removed from dad's. My own husband's birthday is within a week of theirs. Brian, my other brother-in-law, has a birthday within three days of my dad's. Yup, that's now five birthdays in November and December. Really good thing we don't all live together anymore.

And then there are the girls my brothers picked. Instead of continuing the very respectable trend of putting the spouse birthdays six months away from the April-June glutt... they thought they'd add to it. Mark, as I may have mentioned, is dating Kelly, whose birthday is in June, within 2 weeks of his.

John is married to Jenny, whose birthday is within a week of his. Actually, her birthday was this last Sunday.

John's birthday is today.

John and Jenny. Cutest. Couple. Ever.

Sometimes I think John is the coolest of all of us. He's unfailingly charismatic. He's unstoppable when he wants something. He knows the value of hard work and is willing to work hard to get what he wants. He's the most athletic (though lately Denise and Heather have been giving him a run for his money) and, I do believe, he was the most popular in school. Because who can hate that face?

Like Mark, John grew up mostly after I left the house. I remember being amazed when I visited home during college breaks when I realized that John was actually funny. It was such a strange concept. He was always the smallest--though he might be taller than me and Heather, now--but that didn't give him short-man syndrome. It made him scrappy. In a friendly sort of way. (It probably helped that he had a wonderful friend his age, also named John, who was even smaller than he was.)

John is the only one of my parents' children who didn't catch the fiction bug--I believe that, when he reads, he's more likely to read non-fiction like my dad--but that's okay. I love him how he is. I love that he's always happy. I love that he has such great taste in women. I love thinking of how he'll be with his children.

I just love him.

Happy Birthday, John!