I want to share some things I love.

And of course, I love my husband. Except I think he is going to eat me. We always joke that he is fattening me up so that I can be his next meal, but I'm starting to think it might not be a joke. The other day he met me at the door when I came home from work. He asked me how I was and I said tired. So he picked me up and carried me to bed and told me to take a nap for 20 minutes. I asked why only 20 minutes and he said dinner would be ready then.

He makes the best chicken I have ever eaten, added some potatoes cooked to perfection in butter (he is from Idaho, he does potatoes well) and handed me the biggest strawberry milkshake I have ever had in my life to wash it down.

Don't worry, I shared with him. I can't be eaten right now, I haven't learned to be still yet.