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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Mr. Broome told me not too long ago that honesty is what would make people enjoy my blog. I think he possibly could be right so I am going to endeavor to be very honest from now on. Not that honesty is always called for.. sometimes all a blog post calls for is a picture of Betsy snoogling her mutilated duck baby. I'll try to get one for ya tommorrow.

I am going to sum up the ingredients to a fuss Mr. Broome and I had last night.
I got home from work and he was on the phone. I left to go running and he was still on the phone. I got home from running an hour later and wonder of wonders, he was still on the phone. This time though he whispered, "Mom and dad are coming over to help us decide on some things to plant in the yard." So they came and we all chatted about trees and flowers, soil, dirt, and fertilizers. Then they left, I called my mom while unloading the dishwasher, and finally went to the den to sit down and talk to Mr. Broome.
I love my talks with him especially after a long day. He seriously needed to know how my new tennis shoes felt, how the sweatier I get the more accomplished I feel, and how I didn't want leftovers. He was measuring a window. His mind was in the measuring. I asked him what he wanted for dinner, when he was going to be ready to eat, what color socks he was wearing, what singer inspired his heart the most... Not the last two. Err, the point is, I hadn't talked to him all day and I wanted his undivided attention.
Then his phone rang and it was Ben and they were chatty about man stuff.
I went crazy. Mr. Broome always says that women have snakes in their head, and maybe just maybe I do. Mr. Broome is always good at feeding them love and hugs and kisses, so they don't stir things up too often.
So he chatted on while heating up a sandwich and I stormed off.
Then the fuss began. He didn't understand why I was so irritated.
I got in a bath, gave him his space, thought about it, and thought about it some more.
I soon decided that, yes, I had overreacted. I had gotten crazy over nothing, and I can't always blame it on the snakes. I have to take responsibility for my own actions!!! I already learned this in Kindergarten!
So, I told Mr. Broome my thought process. I sort of said a mumbled apology. I admitted that he normally does gives me his undivided attention. He does, he really does.

We got in bed, and read our book. We laughed about some stuff, and the whole night was not ruined. Nor sir it wasn't.

THEN, Mr. Broome did the most wonderful thing.
He cooked breakfast before he went to work this morning. Cheese eggs and jelly biscuits.

Are you in love with him as much as I am? Mr. Broome you HAVE to be the most wonderful man in the world. Its true. I think it every time I watch you leave for work in the morning. There goes the most wonderful man in the world.


Anonymous said...

ssssssssssssss ha ha ha

Mallory Thigpen said...

I know how you feel! But I think that my husband is the most wonderful man in the world!