There are a million reasons that I absolutely adore my husband.  Among them: He’s my best friend, he puts up with my craziness (this is a pretty huge feat), he laughs at my bad jokes (and encourages them, at least that’s what I tell myself) and he patiently sits and listens to my weekly improv stories (struggles), which now include a lot of singing at him.  He’s an all around really great guy.

But he scored even more points today.  Despite a preference to be dipped in hot bubbling tar and set on fire, he stayed up and watched the Royal Wedding with me, because he knew I didn’t have a viewing buddy and he knew that my comments on the various hats and Camilla would be lost on Sam (our beagle who is pretty sure that all I say is, “Sam” and “food!”). He even went a step further and made scones.  How great is he?  This is why I absolutely love him best.  (Of course, he’ll probably be scrubbing his eyeballs all day to cleanse himself of those images, but he’ll do it in secret, because that’s the kind of guy he is.  We’ll just both pretend the redness is him being overcome with emotion.)

Thank you, Jay!