he's a keeper.

I give my husband a hard time about being himself. Am I a horrible person or what? It's not him. No, my hubby pretty much gets an A in hubbyness every single day. It's me. I'm a control freak. If I'm cranky, well, the man should know that poking me while I do the dishes is going to result in me yelling. A lot. And if I'm talking about serious things like if these earrings go with this shirt, he ought to know that I'm expecting him to give an educated answer, not an impression of me (in FAR too high-pitched of a voice) talking about being "girly."

Today, I honor him in a post. Because you see, my husband truly is wonderful and yummy and fabulous, even with all his silliness that drives me crazy sometimes. Last week I came home from the store and told him about the woman who stopped to admire our son (Gabriel) and "daughter" (Eli). "Oh, she is just precious!" the woman had cooed while looming over him in the stroller.

"Why does everyone think he's a girl?!" I pondered aloud to Ben.
"Did you correct her?" he asked.
"No," I said. "What was I supposed to say?"
"Well, I would've said, 'SHE has a P***S!'"

I laughed so hard I thought I caused some permanent internal damage.

He's pretty reliable in providing me with internal-damaging moments of hysterics. And this is what I will try to remember the next Sunday morning he creeps up to the shower curtain and starts belting out "This Is The Day That The Lord Has Made" so loudly that I have a near-death experience while rinsing out my hair.

(Obviously, the asterisked word is the scientific term for a man's tenders...
that's a joke from 'Kung Fu Panda', by the way.)