And tell you how much I love, that every other day, this same someone wakes up before the dawn of crack with the Hurricane.
Because on these every other mornings, he makes egg breakfasts, feeds Harry, cleans the house, scrubs down the kitchen, and gets completely ready for a day at the office before I even begin to moan myself awake.
(While on my every other morning, I mainly just sludge around the house and moan.)
I’m not saying he’s perfect (I think he might have missed one question on his SAT, maybe), but no matter what he’s doing, he goes all out.
In windows, in work, in life, in love.
And I love that the Hurricane is watching his every move.