Day 7 and this one goes out to the one who changed my last name. The one who took over the responsibility of watching my back. The one who got through to me when no one else seemingly could. Lucky Day 7 goes to my husband.
Though he blames my cooking for losing his college physique, he’s always ready to try out a new recipe or a new restaurant to satisfy the Foodie in me. He was the one who celebrated my “independence” by spontaneously having to hold my hand through my first tattoo. He (nearly) moved me twice without a lot of help. [I say nearly because the first time, we had help from Rich and his truck for the big items. The second time around, Tina showed up to help load and say goodbye.]
He’s my fashion consultant, as I’m too tomboyish to deal with hair and makeup and heels. When I say that he’s my fashion consultant, he really is. He buys my shoes. Before and a little after our wedding, he had more shoes than I did! He’s got a great sense of style, and I give him the credit of being a Vegas native. He had to be on top of the latest fashions in this big, tourist city.
My husband is in for nearly everything I want to do/dream of doing. He’s the one who surprised me with a hot air balloon ride after I mentioned to seeing the balloons in the Vegas sky a few weekends straight. It’s also how he proposed to me in 2013. When I mean that he surprised me with the hot air balloon ride, I mean: 5:30am wake up call after two cancellations two days in a row, and he had to put up with morning grumpy me when I thought he was taking me to Denny’s for early morning breakfast. (All he told me was that we were going to have breakfast at a place we’ve never eaten at… ever.) He had to keep a straight face through my ranting and cursing and play punching his arm…. To be honest, I was ready to strangle him if he wasn’t the one driving. However, he got me good, and when I finally realized that the shuttle bus that parked in front of us read “Air Balloon Rides”, I was squealing and screaming and shaking him inside the car. I’m actually surprised he didn’t go deaf. *laughs*
He was all in for our honeymoon in the Philippines (which 50% of the time was spent meeting my relatives) instead of our original plan of going to Rome, Italy. He was even ready to go snorkeling after his first experience (in Mexico) resulted in his distaste of the activity. He got to see my Motherland the way I experience her… both the poor and the good. We pretty much ate our way through our honeymoon, and he was up for every dish that was set in front of him. It’s hard to find someone willing to eat everything, and I practically hit the jackpot with him!
I can’t forget to mention that he’s extremely tall. I’m 4’10” (feet), and even in heels, I barely reach his shoulder. I don’t really have to worry about using a step stool when I need something from the highest shelf. I just have to wait for him to get home from work and point up to the shelf and pout. I know, I know. I’m abusing my power as a woman.
I can happily say that I’ve met my match when it comes to movies. He’s got me beat! We’ve got similar tastes in movies (minus the horror movies. I can’t do them.), but he’s the one who can remember quotes faster than me, and he’ll start spitting out movie references from movies that I’ve seen back when I was ten or eleven!
He’s my biggest teddy bear (besides Duke and Syren and “Good Company”), my biggest supporter, my most avid fan, my worse critic, and let’s not forget, he’s my guinea pig at the dining table, my partner in crime on holidays, and my body pillow on cold nights. He’s broken some of my phobias, and I’d like to say I’ve broken some of his.
He’s still working on my fear of heights, but he is my new medicine for airplane rides. I just squeeze his arm whenever I start to get scared, and I’m all good. No more taking Benadryl before going through the gate! However, when it came to the Voodoo Zip Line… well… You can read all about that couple’s activity by clicking HERE. He really wants me to get on a few roller coasters with him at Disneyland or Disney World, depending on which one he’s able to take me. (Which is one of his items on his “to do” list, because I’ve never been to any Disney park ever, and he wants to be the first to take me.)
He’s the best for just wanting to do that kind of stuff for me. So….
Day 7 of my 30 Days of Thanksgiving goes to my loving, cuddly, caring, worrisome, hardworking, funny husband. From tattoos and traveling to movies and food, I truly have my Ying to my Yang, my salt to my pepper… *laughs* I love you, my city man.