I have a ton of pictures to download onto the computer. We have more USB ports than any other computer I’ve ever seen. Do you know what my IT guy man did? (yes, I’m talking about you. You know I love you.) He plugged the keyboard and the mouse into the “extra” ports on the front of the computer. I know that it makes sense to him for them to be up there and not in the back of the computer where any self respecting woman would put them. I know that probably there is something significantly IT about where he put them.
And, so, there they are. And here my camera cord sits. On top of the desk. Not plugged into the working ports on the computer. Am I spoiled that THIS is what I am complaining about? Yep. Am I being a wee bit lazy? Yep. Will my dh fix it anyway? Probably.
He spoils me often. I don’t put gas in my vehicle. I don’t often go out at night for milk or eggs or whatever else is deemed important at around midnight. I don’t clean a single toilet. I don’t mop floors or have to do too many dishes. He’s insanely tolerant (NOT kidding, poor guy really puts up with a lot here…) with my chasing rabbits all over the place.
“I am SO EXCITED to learn to crochet!! I love crocheting!! I NEED more yarn!” “ok, that’s fine, whatever you need. I’m glad you’ve got a hobby.”
“I don’t like this curriculum (book, class, concept) let’s try this instead”
“WOOHOO!!! I got a sewing machine!! Thank you honey! I have to shop for patterns, fabric, scissors, notions, more presser feet, oh!! and you know what?? A serger would be totally cool!”
I love that he tolerates all of that. I love that we can fight with one another and come up happier and more in love than before. I love his passion, both for our marriage and children and for The Church. I love that he can take me on a really rough day when I don’t feel like moving, when I am feeling horribly down about myself, my hair, my whatever and make me feel like a princess again. I love that he can look at me and say “I’ve called Father, we’re scheduled for confession this evening at 6.” I love that he challenges me to be better than what I am. I love that he is so dedicated to providing for our family.
I love that he can wrestle with the kids (even when I get mad at em for wrestling in the house) and play in the sprinkler, and play tag in the yard no matter what it does to his knees later on. I love that he has “Tim Allen syndrome” so severely that I can’t ask for anything with moving parts for Christmas without fear that he will think more, electric, bigger, or louder is better and he wants me to have only the best.
I love that when our girls were small he would let them paint his toenails, and then was man enough to stand for pictures to be taken! I love that he can have a tea party and a sword fight in the matter of an hours time. I love that he knows his kid is the best on the team (whether they are or not). I love that his “dream” vehicle is our monster van.
I love that after fourteen years he can still light my fire, and wants to.
Happy Anniversary honey!!!
I love you.