Thirty-nine years ago today . . .

. . . my mother in law went into labor with what she thought was her third child. She ended up with a bonus - Mr. Maricucu. Every mom reading this blog is now recoiling in horror and shock at the thought of nesting and preparing for 9 months to mother three children and instead surprise! you're the mother of four now.

Here is my brother in law on the left and the cheeky, adorable Mr. Maricucu on the right. Hey, I'm his wife, I get free license to gush about him on his birthday. Obviously they are fraternal twins and I believe 8-10 months old in this picture. I tell Mr. Maricucu that I sympathize with the dressing alike burden. Despite being three years apart my sister and I were dressed alike until I was almost 10 years old. Perhaps my mom secretly wanted twins? I don't know.




Several years later and he only gets cuter. Poor kid looks like he's fighting every instinct to crack up. My guess is a couple of missing teeth. Yeah, we all went through that. Some smiled with abandon showing all the missing window panes and others shy like Mr. Maricucu go for the Mona Lisa smile.




What? Doesn't everyone have a senior picture with an disco/intergalactic background? He looks so happy he could easily pass for one of those insert photos you get when buying a new frame.




With one of his favorite people ever - his granny. I only met Granny R. a few months before she passed away but from the way he speaks about her, as well as other family members, she holds a place of honor in my heart. You can't turn out a decent, honest, loving man like Mr. Maricucu without being a decent, honest, loving person.




I don't think my sister in law knows I have this picture. From left to right, Mr. Maricuc's twin, older brother K., my sister in law and Mr. Maricucu (it's the cheeks, the cheeks give him away all the time). They were dressed up and ready to walk when their mom remarried. I do believe those hats were the rage in the late 70s as all my mom's bridal party wore the same hats.




Fast forward to two years ago, the twin babies and their older sis. My mom gets a kick every time I remind her that Mr. Maricucu and his brother were teeny tiny little preemie twins. Just for reference Mr. Maricucu measures 6'4" and his brother is not far behind.




So what happens when you're the one person in the household who doesn't really get into a big to do about your birthday? When you could take or leave the hoopla? In Spanish we say, "he who doesn't like broth, gets two cups". Today Mr. Maricucu will be forced to endure a tall birthday cake, trick candles, balloons and I don't know how many renditions of happy birthday from a couple of silly little boys and a clapping baby all egged on by their momma.

Happy Birthday honey, I love you.