Birthday boy

 Yesterday Mark turned 23 and we went to Red Robin to celebrate because we always go to Red Robin to celebrate his birthday.  He loves Red Robin and we love Mark.

I took his picture while we were waiting for Emma and Adam to get there.  In lieu of a cake, a Red Robin menu....

Mark is easy to love.

This is Mark at 23:

He has the most eclectic taste in music of anyone I know.  He will talk about Rush's drum patterns or the optimal instruments in a jazz band or the raw voices of hard rock singers with anyone who will listen.

He loves astronomy.  He dives deep into space related topics.  He recently took a deep dive into the Declaration of Independence, just because he was interested.  He's like Adam in that way.  (I am more of a skimmer of everything.)

He is good at doing things, fixing things, taking care of business.  He is my butler/valet/footman (not sure what to call him, but I know those titles from Downton Abbey) for hire these days and I appreciate his presence as well as his competence.

He is going to school.  He hates going to school.  I am proud of him for doing it anyway.

He is definitely an introvert and bows out when he is done.  At the same time, he can talk to about anyone.  Adam took him with him to visit a man in our ward who is in a care center.  They were having a good visit, talking about old times when Brother Cordon was Mark's Sunday School teacher and even older times when Brother Cordon moved here from California.  A nurse came in to do something and Mark intercepted her because Brother Cordon was in the middle of a good story and quietly asked her to return later.

He's good in situations like that.  His empathy has been forged by two autoimmune diseases and it shows.

I love that he kisses my forehead every day and gives really good hugs.  He always says, when he walks away, "Let me know if you need anything."

Also, he means it.