I have to say it. I am nuts about him. Who wouldn’t love a guy who:
Takes the coffee grinder outside in the morning so he doesn’t wake me up on the rare occasions I can sleep late.
Remembers to add “Poop treats for Squish” to the grocery list.
Didn’t bat an eye when he found out how much it cost for the old kitty to have oral surgery because she’s our first baby.
Takes each kid out on “Dates with Dad” because he realizes they may not want to be seen with us much longer.
Invites Phoebe the dog to go to Starbucks with him.
Tells the two-year-old that the nuts littering our driveway are “squirrel cookies.”
Is willing to be seen with me when I dress up in full Harry Potter regalia. Saving that photo for another blog.
Even though he is doesn’t like spiders (really, REALLY doesn’t like spiders), he said our daughter could have a tarantula “If that’s what she wants.” For the record, she didn’t want one at all. I set her up to ask him for one because I was hoping to freak him out a little. Now I feel kind of bad.
Has shared his home with many a scaly creature during my days of rehabbing and re-homing reptiles.
And then there’s this:
And most importantly of all, he bought a one-way ticket for this crazy train almost 20 years ago and still seems to be enjoying the trip.