With Valentine’s come and gone, I feel as though we really didn’t get a chance to get all ooey-gooey over each others existence. It could be that we’re sharing a room with a giant noisy baby or that we’re hundreds of miles from a babysitter we trust so we can’t go out on a little date while we’re down here in Florida. It could also be that we’ve been floating around in a chlorine induced haze and have found sand in every crevice of our being, leaving us so happily exhausted at the end of the day that we’re unable to form coherent sentences about how much we love each other.
On Tuesday, Facebook was filled with instagram photos of Tiffany boxes, jewelry, roses and updates on romantic dinners and breakfast in bed. I got to be here with you and these two little people we made…eating ice cream in 92% humidity as our arm hairs curled from the heavy moisture in the air.
And then this happened…
I can literally feel all my clothes fall off as I simultaneously ovulate and crawl all over your very existence.
There is no sexier thing in this world than a good dad.
And you my friend? Are ranking pretty high on the hubba hubba scale.
Happy belated Valentine’s Day dude, thanks for making babies with me.