I have to say that in my opinion Jay deserves a medal for putting up with me this many years. Seriously. I'm the first to admit that I'm not always easy to live with, but he does it and never complains.
So my dearest Jay....How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
When I screw up the cooking (which is very often) you do your best to try to swallow it without gagging.
You know I love to laugh, and to this day you can still make me laugh harder than anyone else can. Sometimes I even piddle a little, spit out my beverage, or snort. Sometimes I do all 3.
You have learned how to squelch the look of terror when you see me first thing in the morning. I know it's not a pretty sight, but time has helped you get used to it.
You know when I am stressed, it's best just to smile, hand me a diet coke and bravely ask what's wrong. You never complain when I go on and on and ooooooon about whatever it is.
You are my best friend, and I can count on you to bail me out if I ever do something totally stupid. We still need to work on you keeping quiet instead of quickly sending texts to let everyone know what I just did.
You take out the trash. You know that's a big deal to me, because trash is icky.
You willingly turn ESPN way down when I have a migraine.
You protect me from critters and bugs great and small. This includes spiders, crickets, snakes, skunks and big pigs that have gotten loose.
You worked hard to allow me to stay home with our children as they were growing up. And more importantly, you had faith that I wouldn't screw them up too badly.
Whenever you ask if I want to learn to drive a tractor, you allow me to repeat over and over that there is no fine print in our marriage vows that states I must love, honor, and operate implements. And you let me get away with that.
You are a great dad. You pick on me constantly, but remind your son to save his teasing for his own wife someday, because it's not cool to dis' your mama.
You allow me to inflict great physical pain, such as nearly breaking your hand when I was in labor, or squeezing your arm so tight I'm sure you lost feeling in it when we were on our last airplane flight, or giving you a fat lip when I accidentally kicked you (but in my defense you were tickling my feet).
You leave me silly little notes that are more of a pick-me-up than you probably realize.
Family is important to you. You even go out of your way to be nice to that one crazy relative we each have. (hehehe...let the fun begin as they all try to figure out who that is).
You are a man of God and while that is a relationship that you keep private in your heart, I know it's there, and I know how important that relationship is to you.
And most importantly, you let me be me. You know all my quirks, fears, and other positive and negative qualities and you have never asked me to change. You put up with my longer than anyone else ever has! Why? I'm not sure, but I' so glad you have.
For all this and more, I love you. Please be my valentine.
Valentine by Martina McBride