Acts of Love

My husband is not perfect. Neither am I. But we are perfect for each other, and I just want to write a short little love letter about him, and how wonderful he is to me…

Last night, at 11:30, just as the news was ending and Letterman was starting, I had to run to the bathroom after trying to clean up the kitchen… The smell of the dinner dishes in the sink was just too much for my hideously pregnant body. DFM was already in bed asleep, (he gets up really early for work, and I am a natural night owl) but when he heard me yacking in the other room, he got up to check on me. (Asking a pregnant woman what you can do for her as she barfs, and you are the one that knocked her up, is a bad idea, but we won’t get into that.) Then, he went in the kitchen and cleaned the whole thing. Did the dishes, wiped everything down, even sprayed peppermint oil soap in the sink to mask the drain-smell. Even though he had to be up at 5:30, he did that for me. Then, he covered me up on the couch, and went back to bed. Is that love, or what?? I love him!

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