Actual text conversation with my husband:
Paul: <long ridiculous chain text with problems not only on the grammatical but the theological and philosophical level that I should forward for extra blessings and angels because it’s proof I love Jesus, possibly with some very sketchy thing about saving the life of a child or maybe it was a puppy, so basically everything that is wrong with the internet>
Me: Why do you hate me?
Paul: I thought you loved God!
Me: I thought I loved you.
Twelve years later, and the romance is still alive.
This represents the best I have felt all day. It’s not very good. (Why do I have weird eyes in selfies? I’m not good at this.)
A stomach bug came upon me last night like a lion on a wildebeest and took me DOWN.
I have had saltines and warm soda today, and I am attempting some chicken broth right now. Here’s hoping.
To address the title, which probably seems unrelated: I know there are at least a few single ladies reading this blog who might one day be evaluating husband potential in one or more guys that you know. This is my advice. It isn’t glamorous and it isn’t romantic, but if you’re looking for the long haul, it’s what I recommend.
The one you want is the one that will get up at three in the morning and clean up your puke without complaining.