Thursday, January 27, 2005

100 times that my Boo is the bestest

I promised him I'd write 100 times that my Boo is the bestest, and I have (wink).

This post makes me feel great guilt. Because I love him. And he really IS the best. He does put up with all of my self-doubt and self-loathing, and just plain not wanting to write, and thinking everything I do is bad (I'm not sure what theoretical person's approval I'm seeking, but I am). In fact, he used to read and edit and spell check a lot of my early stuff. It's how I realized a) what a great soul he has, b) he enjoys picking on those of us who misuse heal and heel and c) sometimes I leave words and entire phrases out of sentences. Sometimes.


But I still love his stubborn, yucky self. He vacuums, which I hate doing, and does the kitchen the times I don't do it (and if he tries to convince you it isn't a 50/50 split, he also lies), and he made me the cutest most thoughtful monkey for Christmas that wasn't named Bonzo or Bo Bo. And brought some really good hot chocolate into this marriage.

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