Let’s play a game. I’ll ask you a question and give you multiple choice answers. Can you guess the correct answer?
What question should you never EVER ask your wife who’s been home all day taking care of your newborn baby and your 2 boys AND trying to take care of EVERYTHING ELSE?
A) How was your day, my QUEEN?
B) Did you lose more weight?
C) Can I rub your feet?
D) What did you DO all day?????
E) Would you like me to go to Starbucks for you?
Last night while I was washing the dishes, my husband came up behind me to love up on me. He was hugging me and telling me how cute he thinks I am. It was truly sweet, until he ruined it by saying.
“I love your pregnant ass. I could totally rest my cup on it. It could be my cup holder.”
“I could totally rest my cup on it.”
Him: My knee hurts, will you rub it?
Me: Of course, which one?
Him: My wee
Me: Oh Gawd, rub it yourself.
Tony called me from work today to tell me he misses me. He said he couldn’t wait until I got home from work so we could spend time together, loving and laughing.
Yeah, well, that all changed with one knock on the door.
“Heya, Tony, did I show ya the new gun I bought?”
“NO! Let me grab a beer and I’ll be right over!”
So now, I sit here all alone, braless, craving love and affection while my man is drinking a beer in Tom’s garage.
Sometimes, being married to a Mexican with Redneck Identity Disorder isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I wanted to wish my sweet Tony a wonderful Fathers Day.
He may not be romantic, but he is one hell of a daddy. My kids are truly blessed.
From the day I found out I was pregnant with our first son, I knew he was going to be an amazing dad. I don’t think he stopped smiling for 9 months and he waited on me hand and foot. He would sing to my belly, talk to my belly, lay his head on my belly. He loved the baby before he had ever seen him.
I’ll never forget him by my side while I was in labor. Wiping the sweat from my forehead with a washcloth, encouraging me, telling me how good I was doing, feeding me ice chips, rubbing my back, breathing with me, running his fingers through my hair, taking it when I yelled at him and told him this was all “his damn fault” and to “shut the hell up.” And then, when I pushed that baby out, hearing him cry and thank God for his son and then kissing me on the forehead, repeatedly telling me he loved me and thanking me for giving him a son.
I’ll always remember the way he took care of me when we got home. The way he would hold our son and look at him with such love and care would melt my heart. He would get up with me while I was feeding him, just to keep me company. He would change diapers, rock him to sleep, play with him. He would just love every minute of being a daddy to our baby.
Now that our kids are 10 and almost 6 he is still the best dad a kid could ask for. He takes them fishing, camping, hiking and shooting. He plays baseball, basketball and hide and seek in the front yard. He builds them things, fixes broken toys, makes them breakfast on his days off, rents them video games, takes them to the 99cent store every friday night, takes them for ice cream, teaches them about being responsible, teaches them to respect their mother, he acts silly with them, builds forts, camps out in the living room but mostly he just loves them.
And they love him right back.
Thank you for giving all you’ve got to our children. If they grow up to be half of the man you are, they will be more amazing than most.
Happy Fathers Day, Pighunter!!
I love you.