Welp, friends, we have made it through another week. I made some kick butt spreadsheets, sent the great American work e-mail, and boy howdy did I drink a lot of coffee. That's just how I roll, especially in a week that the Mad Dog has decided to be a bad sleeper again.
This week also marked Shannon and my 4th anniversary. I'm not sure exactly, but I'm guessing that the odd taxonomy that equates years of marriage with raw materials would mark year 4 as burlap or perhaps dish towel. Year 4 has been a wonderful and industrious time: a year chock full of the prosaic work of building a household, making career moves, and parenting a rambunctious child.
I remember that whirlwind day 4 years ago. It was hot as the surface of the sun for our ceremony on the banks of Lady Bird Lake in Austin. Fortunately, we had the shortest ceremony in recorded history probably since some caveman officiant grunted "You married." Shannon was a beautiful bride, and I look back wistfully on the pure joy of that day.
As we sweated under the arbor that day, we both said vows. There was the usual stuff about pestilence and destitution, and we added one of our own about promising to go on adventures. I think we've hit the mark, even if it is a bit of a stretch to count wading knee-deep through a particularly horrific diaper as an adventure..It still counts.Anyway, love ya and I look forward to another 11 or so more of these 4 year marriage chunks (at which point my coffee and wine ravaged body will implode).
Moving right along, here is a bonus Friday "That's What He Said." I've been fighting off the remnants of a cold, and the final stages involve coughing up some gunk. I had just finished a spirited hacking cough this morning when Mikey chimed in, "Oh, daddy, that's juicy. That's icky." He's getting more like his mom every day. Thanks for reading! See you next time.