I found this picture a couple of weeks ago while organizing all of our digital family photos. I thought it was so darling. Kitty Bear is just teeny and LG looks 10 years younger. (Wow, I know that law school took forever but I just didn’t realize just how long the law school phase of our lives has been!)
I just had to smile when looking at this photo because I think I have 3 other identical pictures, except for the other three photos are of LG and his other 3 babies: Abigail, Sophia, and Bella. To find those photos I would have to dig out the Tupperware, search, and scan; and because of the complications associated with retrieving medieval family photos, you will just have to trust me that these photos do actually exist.
Here is one previously scanned of LG and Abigail when she was not so baby, but nevertheless, it is still a cute picture.
So, I know my cute hubby, cat, or kids don’t make for the most interesting post. (most of you have probably already quit reading)
Back to the original post, not that it will interest you that much more. Our friends just blessed our lives in the most magnificent way. They gave us their 3 month old mattress! If you could only see the old cheap mattress that we have been using for the past 8 years, you would know how much of a real blessing this nice new pillow top feels to us. And, if any of you have the heebie jeebies thinking about accepting someones used mattress, then you obviously have not been as poor as we are. (So, please be kind with the comments)
We figure if we are poor, we also should let our children have a little taste of the poverty. Abigail has been complaining about her mattress for months. We finally got her an egg crate on top of it this week. While testing our new and improved mattress, Abigail squeezed right in between LG and I. I took the opportunity to ask her about her new egg crate bed. Her reply was simple, “Oh, I love the egg crate, now, I can’t feel the springs in my back!” Yes, we are equally pathetic around here! It’s no wonder a friend took pity.
Anyhow, I really wished I could post the look on LG’s face when he climbed into bed tonight: the look was that of pure elation! I have never seen him look more happy and comfortable at the same time. (A BIG THANKS to our anonymous bed givers!!!)
So, after we tried laying on the bed for a few minutes, we got the kids to bed. LG and I both headed to the bathroom for the nightly bed preparation. (brushing teeth, using the potty, taking the medicine) While LG was finishing up, I came out to check my e-mail and my blog. When LG appeared a little later, he inquired as to what I was doing. When I said oh so non-chalantly “oh, just checking my e-mail”, (notice I left out the blogging, not that LG didn’t read right through that) LG said, “O.k. I will wait up for you”.
I was not the least bit surprised when approximately 5 minutes later (no joke, no longer than 5 minutes) I hear the sound of pure exultation coming from my husband’s large frame….what is that noise exactly?, you ask….well, it’s close to the sound of a bear in hibernation…just one BIG snore after another! And, yes, I can hear it on the opposite end of the house.
I hurried and closed out my google reader to climb into bed with LG. (I hoped LG would have lost track of time and fall for the just checking e-mail thing) I also hoped that when I crawled into bed with LG that he would want to take advantage of some alone time. (wink, wink, if you know what I mean) Wow, I really must have been hallucinating. I should have known better. The guy has never owned a comfortable mattress of his own.
It took only 2.2 minutes and a nightly prayer for me to realize that I would NOT be able to keep LG’s interest tonight! The snoring immediately continued and provided all the answer I needed…so, here I am, blogging one very boring post.
The moral of the post: if you want to get some attention from your hubby, keep the old mattress…thanks again my anonymous friend, my love life is officially OVER!
But, oh, my hubby is SO comfortable, and now I have more time to blog. How can a woman complain?
alice w. gold 