I am bad. I have never been quite sure when exactly my wife's birthday is. I have attributed it to the fact that she observes her lunar calendar birthday and not her solar; and so I couldn't be expected to know because the calendar is in Chinese characters. But my wife told me a month ago that her birthday is January 24th so I don't have a leg to stand on. I should have known earlier than now. And even my solar/lunar calendar excuse is flimsy like a Liberal Party member of Canada trying to justify an alliance with the Bloc Quebecois.
Be that as it may, this is first time I have written a birthday blog entry for my wife, and even though I should have written one sooner, later is better than never. Here comes a tribute:
She is a great mother to Tony. Her taste in decorating the apartment is flawless. Her efforts in looking after Tony and the apartment are tireless. She is an excellent judge of character. Those who have earned her ire, deserve it. (Pity she wasn't around during the Cultural Revolution for she would have put a stop to it.) She is slim and beautiful. Her only fault is her treatment of me: she displays a tolerance that even a American Liberal would call naive.
I am the luckiest man in the world to be married to her. I have made few correct life choices in my life except listening to Rush Limbaugh, and marrying her.
Here is a famous poem about a Jenny by Leigh Hunt:
"Jenny Kissed Me"
Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me.
Happy Birthday Honey!
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