i married him

Sorry, honey, I lied.

Told Sam that I wanted to get pictures of his new shirt. And I did. But I also wanted some good pictures of him. Something to keep me company while I am home alone while he is working graveyards, and I am curled up in bed with a good vampire book. HA!

I also lied when I told him I wasn't going to blog about him, and his shirt. It's a cool shirt, especially if your name happens to be Sam. But lately I am thinking of calling him by his never used first name, which happens to be Edward.

I am sure all you Stephenie Meyer fans can understand that.

When I try to get a good picture of Sam, I usually get something like this:

Or this, the "I am outta here..."

But really, I think I am pretty lucky. He looks pretty good for a 35 year old. Most of the time I really love this guy.

He is the best hair-dyer that I know of. Miss Clairol ain't got nothin' on him. He is very meticulous about getting good coverage on my long hair, even if the complimentary gloves barely fit his hands.

The other night, he was fresh home from his graveyard shift, and very tired, I am sure...but heard one of the kids vomiting, again, and turned to me and said "I've got this one."

Sometimes when my alter-ego (that-other-lady) threatens to present herself, Sam has been known to gather up all the children and take them all away for a couple of hours. To safety.

He scrubs floors without being asked. I know.

He always, always says "Yes" when I ask him if he wants to see my latest layout, and has been known, upon occasion to comment with surprising accuracy "That upper-right corner needs something, maybe a photo-corner?"

When he gets home from his graveyard shift, he is as quiet as he can be, and uses his cell-phone as a flashlight so he won't wake me. (Little does he know, that moms sleep with one eye open anyway, and subconsciously I am waiting for him to come home, but it is still thoughtful, and I give him full points for the effort)

He always thanks me for dinner. No matter what it is. And every once in a while, will thank me for something out of the blue, like: "Thanks for doing wash" while he is putting on clean socks. (Do men get that it is the LITTLE THINGS like this, that get them a whole lot of mileage?)

When that-other-lady shows up, sometimes he brings me home a drink from the gas station. And a treat. Usually Bit-O-Honey. I am not sure if that is subliminal or not.

He gives me medium-pressure-non-sexual back-rubs, and always finds the knots and works them out. And then, he doesn't even expect me to reciprocate, probably cause I suck at giving back rubs.

He fixes stuff. I don't get how instinctively he knows how all things work, but he does.

He always makes me laugh. Even when I am mad at him, which makes me madder and I have to remind him "I am not laughing cause you are funny, I am laughing cause I am pissed." Which makes no sense, really.

I guess I could go on and on, but really, who likes to read about other peoples' husbands? Especially if you are mad at yours. And this will probably be a good thing for me to review too, when he sneaks off to go golfing next week.