Monday, April 1, 2013
Thirteen Years, Fifty-One Weeks
I love that he names all the animals in the neighborhood. (The dog in yard behind us? Nameless. No really, that’s what he calls him. Nameless.)
I love that he picks the animal hairs off my clothes. Well, not really, but I appreciate that he doesn’t want me to look like an idiot.
I love that he walks Rockett twice a day, no matter the weather.
I love that he is always finding new and interesting music for us to listen to; even if one of the newest is jailbait and the other is Reggae Michael Jackson.
I love that he likes staying at home as much as I do. Probably more actually.
I love that he vacuums the entire house. And the cat.
I love that he likes driving a mini van. And a mini cooper.
I love that he’s saved every card I’ve ever given him. And believe me, that’s A LOT of cards.
I love that he reminds me that HATE is a very strong word.
I love that he takes photos of the animals at the shelter each week, and then spends time editing and posting them, always sharing them with me and my friends.
I love that he paints/thinks/lives outside the box.
I love that I’m always finding new surprises in our backyard.
And, I’m so glad that fourteen years ago, he decided to stay.