Love That Man

I love my husband.

I love spending time with him.

I love that his job allows us to be together a lot... usually.

I love that we don't get sick of each other.

I love that he loves having coffee with me.

I love our life together.

I love that if ever there was a perfect marriage, it's ours.

I love that he would much rather I ignore house work when he's around.

I love that he changes my facebook status every chance he gets to say cute things about me 

(it's embarrassing and endearing all at the same time).

I love that he loves our little boy.

I love the look in his eyes when he watches Jimmy accomplish something new.

I love the way they play together.

I love his random gestures of sweetness.

I love that he thinks I'm beautiful.

I love that he loves me.

I am so blessed. 

This post was originally composed in my head to explain how I love mornings like this... Calm, beautiful, quiet... The baby is still sleeping, the man is hunting. My phone is buzzing off the hook, as they say, with text messages about the 10-pointer my sister got... An eagle is soaring over the lake... The house is clean, my coffee brewed with pumpkin spices is tasty... So to preface my thoughts on such pleasantries due-to-the-man-being-gone this early morning, I was going to make sure everyone understood how I adore him. And then, I couldn't stop. And at the end of it, I am missing him... Here's to hoping he gets a 12-point monster or bigger. 

EDITED TO ADD: within 45 minutes of Hannah shooting her buck, Andy got himself a large 9-pointer. Not quite as big as Hannah's, but the rack was wider and if you're like me and have no idea what that has to do with coolness, just trust me. I think that makes it close to being almost as cool as Hannah's. Though, Hannah's still has his beat by approximately 10 inches in the scoring. If you don't know what that means, don't feel bad. I didn't either until recently. I just may put a photo up of the two of them later....