but once a year . . .

Today is the day that only comes but once a year.

My birthday.

My 27th birthday, to be exact.

My how the years fly by. I swear it was just yesterday that I was writing my 26th birthday post. Surely it hasn't been 365 days since then.

You know what my favorite thing is about my birthday?

I share it with my grandpa.

My grandparents helped raise me...so I was close to them growing up.

I've always thought my grandpa was the best.

His name is Joe...grandpa Joe.

He would wake me up in the mornings by singing...

"It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up in the morning...everyone knows when the rooster crows, it's time to get up in the morning."

Then he would cook me breakfast. Pancakes in the shape of my name j e n n y.

Then while I was eating, he would sneak into my room and staple my shirt sleeves together.

Then my grandma would get mad at him as she removed the staples.

Then he would hide his orange peels in my shoes.

Then when I walked into the room, he would sing...

"there she is...miss America."


I think I'm sorta like my grandpa....kinda quiet, sensitive, don't like being in the spotlight, would rather hang out at home than go "out," secretly mischievous and love macaroni and tomatoes...just like him.

Since I was young, I have always thought it was the coolest thing in the world to have my birthday on the same day as my grandpa's. I still think it's the coolest thing ever. I love sharing my birthday with the best grandpa in the world.

happy birthday, grandpa!