Wednesday, November 17, 2010


And in continuation…here are random reasons why I love my husband.

He’ll go out of his way to help me watch my Colt’s games, even though he hates football (or any other sport for that matter). 

He nicknamed me his banana and calls me that when I’ve done anything dunce-worthy…like put the milk in the pantry instead of the fridge.  It’s like his little “oh baby, that’s okay, I still love you” without actually saying all of that.

He makes me open my little tightwad fists to get things I want; like a really cool, useful, large capacity, nearly professional grade food processor or new shoes when mine have literally fallen apart.

He eats my “excessively healthy” food.  His words, not mine.

When I have a way-worse-than-usual bad day, I can pretty much be guaranteed of a favorite beer, wine, or flower waiting for me at home.  He can be assured of getting comfort food that’s slightly less excessive on the health scale.

He always meets me at the door when I come into the house and kisses me hello.  Best part of my day, aside from being snuggled while I fall asleep. 

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