LOVE!
Pardon me while I brag.
I have the best husband.
He brings me peaches, and even though he does not like fruit of any kind and has no sense of smell, he has taught himself to pick peaches that are at the perfect stage of ripeness by weight and feel alone. And he does this for me, because he knows I like them better than almost anything. THAT, my friends, is love.
He finished his book today. Writing, motherfuckers, not reading. WRITING. I am so fucking proud. Proud of him for finishing it, and proud to be married to someone so talented.
He finished his book, and he still volunteers to take time to read over what I have written and offer constructive criticism.
And he successfully kept me and our drunken redneck whore of a neighbor from murdering one another at two in the morning over a barking dog. Not only that, but he even successfully negotiated a peace treaty with the neighbors. A feat nothing short of miraculous.
I really, really fucking love my husband.
I have the best husband.
He brings me peaches, and even though he does not like fruit of any kind and has no sense of smell, he has taught himself to pick peaches that are at the perfect stage of ripeness by weight and feel alone. And he does this for me, because he knows I like them better than almost anything. THAT, my friends, is love.
He finished his book today. Writing, motherfuckers, not reading. WRITING. I am so fucking proud. Proud of him for finishing it, and proud to be married to someone so talented.
He finished his book, and he still volunteers to take time to read over what I have written and offer constructive criticism.
And he successfully kept me and our drunken redneck whore of a neighbor from murdering one another at two in the morning over a barking dog. Not only that, but he even successfully negotiated a peace treaty with the neighbors. A feat nothing short of miraculous.
I really, really fucking love my husband.