Last week Steve turned thirty. Steve who hates a lot of stuff and who has been my friend since almost the minute I got to college.
Steve who spends his birthday fixing my stairs and then chases my kids with a drill.
Steve who never dressed up for our theme parties or danced at shows,
but now brings my kids old board games and bags of their favorite potato chips.
So we ate lots of meat (his favorite food is animal), drank some beer (at some point he became a Budweiser guy),
and spent hours staring at the water, just like we did in college.
He's a good friend; the kids spent the day flower bombing him,
and he snuck them extra cupcakes. It's pretty cute.
My friends I made when I was a sixteen year old freshmen are now running around with my kids while we listen to Phish from a DeWalt boombox, and everything feels so familiar, and it's all so different too.