Slick turns.... (well really, it's just a number)

So who needs a Justin Bieber, Zac Efron or Taylor Lautner when you've got someone like Slick. Number-wise he's not young anymore, but the number is the only thing that suggests he might be pushing mid-life. And these young boys have got nothing on him. Brad's got looks AND wisdom. He's hot AND he's humble. He's got drive AND he's in control. He's strong AND he's spiritual.

As Taylor Swift sings, "I'm only me when I'm with you" (well, him)

Brad is pretty passionate about some things. He doesn't take it as a compliment but I think it's adorable. He gets worked up and fired up and when he takes the time to put those emotions into reason and words --- the only word I can think to describe him is, attractive. So babe, take it or leave it but I like it when you're passionate about something, especially if that something is me.

Another thing that I think is very attractive about Slick, and I'm sure I take it for granted, is his work ethic. He surprises and inspires me on a regular basis, that he can stay committed to work. I know he doesn't love (or even like) work some days, but he goes everyday, without complaint (almost). I have known many guys throughout my life that would not fit into this category. Even though when were dating I didn't know I was attracted to this, but it is a lasting quality. And if he didn't have it I would have said, "Adios", long before we even had a chance to get off the ground. Lazy is NOT attractive.

This may sound strange, but the other day I was admiring my FULL gas tank, and thinking how nice it was to have it. I was feeling taken care of knowing I didn't have to worry about running out of gas because we didn't have the money to fill it. And with all the running around I do, I have to fill it a LOT. He never gives me grief about it. It's just another reason he works hard for the money.

Now let's talk physical attributes. He's known this forever because I tell him every chance I get and it is something I have been aware of since we were dating, and that is his hands. I love them. Something about the ratio of the hand size to the wrist size and how it connects to the forearm, something about the spread of the fingers... I don't know, it's not something I can really explain. I wish the picture showed it but the back of his right wrist has small round scar on it. He got it as a kid, but to me it is sexy. It adds to that whole "hand thing"... be still my heart.

And now, on to the eyes. I have to say, I love beautiful blue eyes, especially when they have different colored specks or a dark ring around the iris. They show up great in photos and catch the light easily. But to me, there is nothing more beautiful than sparkly, dark brown eyes. They seem innocent and childlike. He has this type of eyes and they are framed with long, dark brown eyelashes... ooh-la-la. Really sorry, am I gaging you? I don't mean to, but in the long run this post is for me so too bad ;)

I know I don't even need to explain this last item and that is his, for lack of a better word, "funness". This isn't to be confused with funniness (which is also a good adjective for him) but it describes the way he is. He IS fun. He likes to HAVE fun. He wants things to BE fun. He knows how to MAKE fun. His life in general is fun. I'm glad he's fun, cuz I have a tendency to take things too seriously, or forget to see the fun, or forget to use fun to make a point or to influence people. His imagination is great and he doesn't care if he comes across whacky. It's all the more fun that way, right?

So who cares that 48 years have passed since his mom was in grueling labor with him. 48 is young when you are young at heart (and a little touched in the mind)

I love you Slick! And Happy Birthday!

Not Wasted On Me

Yesterday was Fast Sunday, which means from about noon on, I am in some sort of stupor (not to be confused with stupid, which I am in everyday) Between church and dinner I often am very limp and can't think very well. Then after dinner (I don't know the cause) I get extremely sleepy, to the point that sometimes I feel like I'm drugged. This happened last night, and I crashed early on the couch. In all my delirium though, I could just comprehend what I have coined "hilarity hour". Hilarity Hour has existed a long time in our household. What is it you ask. Well, as it becomes close to bedtime everyone gets a little crazy and silly. The more tired we are, the more silly we get. When the kids were little it used to be extremely annoying and energy draining for me. It still can be, but at least I know the kids are old enough to be responsible for getting themselves into bed, so I can usually ignore it, especially when I have a little triptiphan surging through my body. So while I was in and out of my comatose state, I could hear Tiny (Afton) and Scooter B (Brady), playing and laughing and being all around hilarious. Little bits of their laughter and conversation drifted into my conscious mind. I heard them say things like, "Don't do it she'll be mad." Surrounded by lots of giggling and phrase fragments like, "I dare you". What finally pulled me from my unconsciousness you ask? It was a spraying noise and a wet, cold feeling on the back of my sprawled out hand. Yep,I woke up to a hand full of whipped cream. I foiled their plans of tickling my face and having me scratch with that cream filled hand. In my thick thinking, it never dawned on me that the person they were talking about getting mad was me. But I wasn't mad, in fact, the more I think about it, the cuter and more endearing it is. My being awake quickly ended hilarity hour, but the echo of their wonderful laughter has been in my mind ever since and the thought of how someday, in the very near future, I'm going to miss "hilarity hour".

P.S. this is the first post I've ever published without a picture -- my subconscious was desperately trying to get me up to take a picture of my darlings, but alas, the spirit is strong, but the body is weak.