It's the silly little things that make you appreciate the guy you're with.
I'm going in for a haircut, so last night I asked the huz what he thinks of this cut (right side).
I was maybe 45% joking. 55% of me (that's a majority vote, guys) really likes having something weird all up in there. But, you know, teacher conferences are coming up and all.
So he takes a good look and says yeah, that might look good on you.
Now mind you, we're not in our 20s anymore. We don't have tattoos. We have kids and dogs and a mortgage. It's been a few years since either of us could honestly lay claim to "being in a band". We take multi-vitamins and eat fiber.
And yet. The dude is willing to let me hang off his arm with a spiky red Tegan and Sara mullet. It's not flowers or champagne or sandy romantic gestures on the beach, but things like this that love is made of. At least in our house.
I might compromise with this:
While the mortgage-paying, fiber-eating lame-o momsy part of me is all, "Why not something nice like this?":
I hate that lady. She's SUCH a buzz kill.
If it's not too mangled, maybe I'll post a picture of the results.
Feel free to vote on your favorite.
Also, what's with girls having chicken wings instead of arms? Ick.