My daughter is so excited that her parents are going to a prom together. You know, before we ever had kids we decided that the most important thing for our children to know was that their Mommy and Daddy love each other. Our marriage is the rock that their lives are built upon.
So whenever the kids make comments about how much we love each other, I get a really ooey, gooey, warm feeling inside.
Last weekend, before he left on a week-long TDY, my husband was showing my daughter how to dance like grown-ups. It was so cute. Later she said to me, "Daddy is such a good dancer, Mommy. You're lucky to have him as your date for the prom."
"Well, kiddo," I responded. "I'm pretty lucky to have him, period. Although, well, you know. It isn't really like I lucked into having him. I made good choices and...yeah. Kiddo, you're right. I'm lucky."
My husband's awesomeness doesn't really ever get proclaimed quite enough. He is the most understanding and compassionate man ever born. Yet he can hold his own in any manly conflict.
I swear after all this time, I am still getting to know him. Or maybe we're both growing and constantly learning about each other.
I could go into details about the selfless things he does. The way he takes my own cares on as his own. The way he has accepted and grown to love my family in a way that I know I can't duplicate for his. The incredible way he balances caring for this family he loves with a calling that he holds dear.
But all in all, I just think it needs to be said.
He's the bomb. And I'm lucky.