See this man?
I kinda like him.
He’s my friend, my sweetheart, my cheerleader, my sugar daddy, my boyfriend and my biggest fan.
He is my Nafan. (And no, that’s not a typo.)
He makes me laugh every single day.
He brings me flowers to celebrate I Still Love You Day (i.e., the day he forgot to leave the door unlocked for the gal who cleans our home every other week).
He gets the babies ready for bed when I’m at my wits end.
He’d like to get mad when I buy yet another pair of shoes but he never does, knowing there’s a good chance—especially if they’re a pair of Badgley Mischka’s—I’ll wear them naked (only for him, of course) to make up for the purchase .
He bought me an iPad 2 even though he’s anti Apple. (Don’t get him started.)
He loves me even when I back over the lawnmower because I’m not used to having a backup camera on the minivan.
He loves me even when I try to speak my love language (gift giving) to him rather than his love language (quality time).
He loves me even when I throw what looks like an entire roast down the garbage disposal and have to call the plumber to remedy the situation. (At least we were renting and the plumber was free.)
He loves me even though I only iron once a year.
He loves me even though I convinced him we needed to buy a puppy for our daughter.
He loves me even though he knows me inside and out. In fact, I think he loves me because of all this. (And yes, I just pointed to all of me.*)
I am his friend, his sweetheart, his cheerleader, his sugar mama (figuratively speaking), his girlfriend and his biggest fan.
I am his Softy.
And I love him.
* How to Train Your Dragon is a favorite around here and another reason I love this man. No one enjoys a good movie like he does even animated.