My husband tells me I look pretty almost 5 of seven days of the week. I consider myself lucky. Not just because he compliments me but, because I'm almost convinced that, even though I haven't lost all the baby weight from No. 2, he genuinely means it. I also consider myself lucky, that I believe him to be one of the dreamiest men of all time. Sometimes I imagine myself being single again and dream up different scenarios in which we meet. At the grocery store, in a bar (which, incidentally is how we met), at a drive-in movie or a cocktail party. Even my single alter ego thinks he is irresistible. That's a very good sign, yes?
It is finally May. It is raining in the midwest right now, but it is still May. He will start to wear shorts, I love him in shorts (and sunglasses and a t-shirt). I love him (in anything).