1 Year Closer to 6 Feet Under

There's a possibility that this post will over stimulate your gag reflex in a big way, but I assure you I will do my best to keep your keyboard vomit-free.  You should however, absolutely expect a few dry heaves..........at best.  With that said, let me begin by telling you that Ryan's 34th birthday is upon us.  Him.  Whatever.  And for the record hun, you da man!  And you're also the most funnest person to do late night (I'm really not going there.......trust me. Sheesh!) Target meandering with.  Oh, and to rip Obama to shreds with (no voodoo please, that >#^% is twisted).  OK, now gush with me for a moment.  Right this way....watch that step.  Ry is one of my favorite people.  I know, I get it.  He's my husband.  One's husband would usually be considered a favorite.  But you know what?  He amazes me on a regular basis.  Like, almost every day.  Except for those days when I want to pound on him a little bit.  Ya know, those days when I'm super pissy and am eager to dole out a smattering of undeserved insults.  Those days (I'm pretty sure yesterday qualified as one) can be rough.  But generally speaking, he's a gem. 

Feel free to grab a barf bag.  Don't worry, I'll wait.-------------------------------------------------Got one?  OK, now hold that bad boy nice and firm to your chin.  Ya good?  Alrighty then. 

He's always been super cool.  That's why I married him duh.  But lately amidst my being pulled in 250 more directions than usual, he's been like "incredi-spouse".  I know your all like "whoa, she's koo koo for cocoa's".  But honestly his sensitivity, niceness, and cute ass-ness (it's my blog and I'll swear if I want to) is all-a-baffling to me.  Ex: Last week the sink was FULL and I mean TO CAPACITY FULL of dishes and the dishwasher was also full of clean dishes.  Then next moment.........VIOLA!  Cabinets full of clean dishes, dishwasher running, and sink empty.  And the 3 giant baskets of clean laundry (the root of all evil)?  Folded and stashed in their semi-proper locations.  And on Thursday when I informed him early eveningish that I wanted to go for a long, very long bike ride (more for the escape than the exercise)?  His response: "Sure."  "Go."

*Angel choir crescendos*

wait for it, wait for it --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*SWOON*

I know.  Hot as ev-ah I tell you!  I did find Eliot's shirt in my underwear drawer and the cutting board in the oven (hey pyro, what's up) but that's beside the point.  And an entirely 'nother post all by it's self.  But the man's capacity for domesticness knows no end.  He is the superman of bed-making, errand-running, and poopie diaper-changing.  And a sexy one at that.  

So Happy 34th Ry!  Here's to the days I want to wring your neck, the days I can't keep my hands off of you, and all the days in between.  I love you............always have, always will.

     DANG BABY!!!

               (Oh, he is SO gonna crap his pants when he sees this)

*I know my "1st and 2nd person" is all over the place here.  Tough noogies.