You Are My Person Of The Year
You make me laugh or laugh nervously along with me as I say something vastly inappropriate. You look past my laughter, see the deeper, and still decide to smile. You fart at just the right moment. You knew I needed something to hold onto the second the news came from that fluffy kewpie doc. You […]
You make me laugh or laugh nervously along with me as I say something vastly inappropriate. You look past my laughter, see the deeper, and still decide to smile. You fart at just the right moment.
You knew I needed something to hold onto the second the news came from that fluffy kewpie doc. You saw your world come crashing down, but you took those cement-filled steps over to me as I stared into the abyss.
You gained weight just to be in communion with me as you fed my dwindling body. You heard me late at night when I didn’t even know I was calling. You worked all day, took care of our family and still visited me.
You believed all along that this was curable, beatable, smashable. You’ve been right all along. You are my press secretary and wing-woman, fielding calls and questions from everywhere. You never, never, never let me forget I’m a man.
You tell me my skin stretches beautifully over an excellently-shaped scalp. You support us economically, socially and psychically. You are my favorite, favorite. You put up with the weird and bizarre as I emerge from the shadow.
You are a tremendous financial planner. You love to just simply hang out with me. You are sleeping more peaceably now, more soundly. You are my gauge; if you’ve stopped worrying as much, so must’ve I.
You have officially spent 20 years with me today, unofficially even more. You know I wish I could give you millions in gold and billions in diamonds. You also know those things are just things.
You have my heart, sweetie pie. You have my soul, my darling. You are the world’s best friend, mother, disinfecter, movie-goer, couch-chatter, dog whisperer, crisis manager, comedian and wife.
You are my person of forever.
