Seven

I almost feel like I’ve fallen off the blogging horse. I only posted once last week. Of course, I posted today but Matt did all the dirty work (read: he wrote the whole thing.) Excuses, excuses. I have been busy, okay? This is going to sound so LAME but I’ve been using all my internet time to make picture books. I had a free code (or three free codes. It counts if I used my personal email, Matt’s email, and Matt’s work email in order to get three codes. Right?)
 
All that to say, I didn’t have time to blog. (Or comment, LJers. Apologies.) I know you missed me.

And Gentry? Let me just be up front and say that I don’t have any pictures today. I know you’re going to see this wall of text and be disappointed. I’m sorry. Go visit Trophy Wife instead. Okay? She wears high heels and doesn’t eat things with eyes.

Speaking of eyes, you want to know who the apple of my eye is? I bet you can’t guess. None other than my very own Matty P. As of today, we’ve been married a whooping seven years. (Notice the connection? The love child is seven years old too.) That’s right. Seven years of wedded bliss. (Want to see what I wrote last year? Check it out. Or check out my 5th anniversary gift here.)

I’d take a bullet for that man. Ya’ll probably think I’m lying when I say he’s a better man than most. I’m not. He is. He works harder. He sleeps less. He is nicer. He helps other. He talks less. He cooks better. He scrubs toilets. He makes cakes. He’s hot too.

Oh, hi! Can I call you, Mr. Perfect? .

Today, Matt, wasn’t just another day. It is our day. Seven years ago was one of the best days of my life and days like today make it all worth the fight. The lunch date with B. The laundry that never ends. The kid shuffle. The secret ‘kids are sleeping’ let’s eat cake kind of day.  I’ll gladly go another seven rounds with you. One thing is for sure, I’m with you – in this – the whole way. 

The world? Is our oyster.

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