This? This is my husband.
I sure can pick ‘em!
This shot sums him up quite nicely, actually. He’s up at the crack of dawn – a misty, overcast dawn – doing something outdoors. Usually something related to shooting or catching a helpless animal, swinging a club, or beating his heels against the pavement for no reason at all.
He complains every day when the alarm goes off, yet on one of the rare days where he could sleep in, he voluntarily chooses to get up even earlier. And there’s no complaining on these days. The dude SPRINGS outta bed. Hopping around all giddy and loud, loving every minute of torturing his poor, sleeping wife.
I don’t like that Before Dawn stuff, thank you very much. Before Dawn and me don’t get along. It’s a dramatic relationship. I don’t want to talk about it.
Why do men do this? This sacrificing sleep for outdoors, thing? Not only that, but the torture-the-poor-soul-still-trying-to-sleep thing?
Wait, I’m getting off track. Oh! The photo! That’s right.
Even with his 5am leaps out of bed and his serious addiction to the shooting/swinging/pavement stuff, he never leaves his goofiness behind.
That goofiness, my youngest-of-four-children Hubz is full of it. Overflowing with it, actually. Which is great for making sure I meet my daily giggling quota. But don’t get me started on the photos. He ruins photo after photo after photo.
Hey honey, turn around and smile, please!
Smile NORMALLY, please.
I guess I’ll live with the goofiness. You have other great qualities, after all.
You’re a book geek like me. Big bonus there.
You’re a loving uncle, who…
Fine. Fiiiine. You’re their favorite goofy uncle.
But I guess that’s ok. I still kinda sorta love you for it.
I’m glad this happened a few years ago. Giggles and all.
And by glad I really mean thankful and amazed and blessed and so so so happy.
Yesterday was your birthday, the big three-oh.
Happy birthday, Hubz! I kinda like you.