Bruce turned the big two-seven yesterday. He says it feels like the big two-six did, so *phew*. That's a relief.
When I woke up yesterday, I rolled right on over to give him his birthday morning kiss, and this lovely exchange took place:
Me: Happy Birthday, Baby! How do you feel?
Him: Like I did yesterday.*
Me: Well, that's good. [kisses him] There. I think you're the oldest man I've ever kissed.
Me: Well, actually, that's not true at all.
Me: Sorry 'bout that. That was a lie.