Caution: contains amorous amateur poetry. You've been warned!
It is that time again, the annual celebration of the day Shea picked me! If you can’t get enough of us, check out last year’s post. The big ten years!
Now we celebrate eleven years. I guess this is officially more than a fling. He is undoubtedly my soulmate. Never had I met a man who I could be 100% myself with…potty mouth, good intentions and all. I still marvel at how much he loves me. Shea is behind everything I do. Little Purple Barn simply would not exist without him. He lets me dream and never shuts me down (unless perhaps heavy lifting or public nudity are involved.) I just can’t express my depths of gratitude for my custom fit husband! I hope every day to make him as happy as he makes me (and some mornings, I simply set out to irritate him because it is fun.)
In case I didn’t gag you yet with sick sweet sentiments, I decided to post the lyrics to a song I wrote for my sweetheart while engaged. I used to belt it out on the I-15 as I eagerly sped home in my 1989 Ford Tempo to see him. Now, we sing it every year on our anniversary (we are talking shower quality, not performance grade.) This year, I am teaching it to the kids so they can serenade him. The lyrics may not be the smoothest (though Sarah McLachlan or Kelly Clarkson, you are still welcome to steal them when you most certainly read this) but they are sincere and still the way I feel about my man…
Here’s to another decade together. (It will take longer than that for you to finish the honey-do list I have in my head!! bwa ha ha) And brace yourself, Shea: when you get home from work today, I look forward to grossing the kids out with some good old-fashioned, enthusiastic PDA.