You have a million-watt smile, and very beautiful teeth.
Your eyes are exactly the color of seaglass, and sometimes they are green. Other times, they turn blue. They almost always sparkle.
You have few outward fears.
You have the ability to speak your mind, and hold your ground.
Whenever there is a piano within a fifty foot radius, you are drawn to play it. In Vienna, a crowd of listeners cheered after you were finished. And the Viennese know a thing or two about music.
You brought me homemade apple strudel on our first date. Good move.
You don't like spicy food, or beans, or coconut milk, or ginger - all things I love. Somehow this doesn't get in our way.
You always give me the heart of your artichoke when we make them. You claim it is because you are full, but I know it is because you know how much I love them.
You always cut your juice with still or sparkling water, and you are right. It tastes better that way.
You have the ability to make people roar with laughter.
You are unafraid to try something new, or to make an adventure out of a mundane task.
You put music on for me when I cook.
You sleep very strange hours, and sometimes don't go to bed at all. As an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type, I don't get this.
Come to think of it, there are a number of things about you that remain utter mysteries.
And the same is true of me, like why I open the cereal box upside down. Or why I leave cabinets open.
You love to ask questions, even when you already have the answers.
You are frustrated with the state of the basement. I don't blame you.
You love animals. Animals love you. It's a win-win situation.
You notice everything about everyone. You are very observant, sometimes annoyingly so.
You are a perfectionist. Sometimes this gets in your way; most of the time it means that our pictures are hung straight. Which they wouldn't be if I had the nail and the hammer.
You are fiercely loyal to your friends and family.
You sometimes sacrifice your time and happiness for them.
You worked your way into the heart of our ten year old nephew, who needed a male role model. And who loves you enormously.
You abhor the expression "Shut up." More people should - you're on to something with that one.
You can sit at your desk and work for, like, EVER. I can't stay still that long. I don't know how you do it.
You take the most beautiful photographs. We can be looking at the very same thing, two cameras pointing at it. My photo looks like my two year old nephew took it; yours looks like it should be on the cover of National Geographic.
You remind me to take my vitamins.
You are sensitive.
You are a much better vacuumer than I am.
Bless your soul, you are so very allergic to mosquito bites and poison ivy.
You are irreverent.
Sometimes you will walk by me, or check on me when I am sleeping and ruffle my hair. It's very soothing. You can do that more often if you would like.
You always want me to try a bite of whatever you are eating.
You had an awkward phase in high school when you wore burgundy turtlenecks. I call it your Masterpiece Theatre years.
You are patently not "one of the guys" and don't enjoy competitive sports- I like this.
You brush your teeth for exactly two minutes. This cracks me up.
You really want me to learn how to scuba dive, but I might just like to stay a snorkler.
You walk with a little spring in your step - did you know this?
You are nothing if not a realist, though you seem to enjoy my flights of fancy and day-dreaming ways. Most of the time.
You remember my students, their stories, and their struggles.
You can take apart and put a computer back together. To me, this is magic.
You chaperone high school dances with me and after the dance is over, you always order a pizza to share at midnight.
You enjoy rituals.
You would happily eat whipped cream straight. I don't think I have ever met someone who loves whipped cream as much as you do.
You always want to help people. Always.
You are particular.
You patiently follow me around in nurseries as I look at plants. For hours. And hours.
You are very left-brained but you have a right-brainedness about you too.
You switched out the fireplace so I could breathe more easily.
You put away the dishes that are too high for me to reach.
You always know where I am in a crowded room.
I know you are always thinking of me.
And I, of you.
Happy Anniversary, Alexander. I adore sharing a life with you.