I married a good man.
A man who takes the trash out without being told. A man who plays games with our kids and sometimes lets them win. A man who can't wait to get home at the end of the day, just so he can be with us.
A man who builds me up when I am doubting myself. (which, let's be honest here, is a lot)
A man who laughs at my "chair closet" when I get lazy and don't want to hang things up. (And also a man who doesn't take that time to remind me how often I nag him about hanging his own things up.)
[Note to self: No more nagging about the clothes]
A man who loves freckles and dimpled thighs. (or at least pretends to anyway)
A practical man who approaches life with logic and intelligence.
A man who sees me at the end of my rope, and always ties a big knot for me to hold onto.
Yes, I married a good man.
And today I thought I should tell him that.