You know, everyone loves their husband, right? I mean, obvi we have married these creatures for a reason. Even if we don't understand why it's ingrained in their DNA to pee on the toilet seat and not be able to scratch their own ass without a little help or assistance from their superwives.
Kent is a piece of work. Truly. He is the youngest of 3 and arguably a mama's boy. He tends to be lazy at times. He definitely doesn't know how to do a load of laundry by himself. He loses his wedding ring ALL THE TIME. And he claims that browning meat for Taco Tuesday qualifies as him "cooking dinner".
But let's let that go.
The other night as we were battling the never ending fever situation, Kent rescued me from jumping off the tallest mountain in South Florida, which is actually the trash dump off 595.
Kent got out of the bed for the 4th time or so that night to take care of a screaming, 104 degree fevered 2 year old that needed nothing more than for someone to lay on the floor next to him and rub his back at 2:30am.
And that night, Kent also became my hero.
We have our differences. Things aren't always easy. And I'm sure there are days that we both question our rationale when we married each other. But my God. When it all boils down to it, he's pretty amazing.
I don't give him near enough credit sometimes.