I don't know if anyone reads other people's Father's Day posts. It's okay if they don't. Because see, I was just about to put something in my facebook status update and I decided that I wanted to say too much.
My husband isn't like any person I've ever met before. Somehow he manages to be weird and quirky and unpredictable and conservative and steady and serious and funny and somber all at the same time. We somehow always know exactly what he's going to think about things but never have any idea what he's going to do next.
There is nothing...NOTHING...he cares about more than his wife and kids. There is nothing he'd rather do than spend time with us.
He brewed his first batch of homebrew when he was 14 years old. During that same era, he also built a kiln in his backyard (or was it a forge? Probably both), his suburban Southern California subdivision backyard, and narrowly avoided burning down the neighborhood. He brought bagpipes and a Karmann Ghia with him to college
I was an obnoxious twit our freshman year and he and I both know that he knew it. Luckily I didn't like anyone who didn't like me first, but I still had a dream, an actual dream in the middle of the night, that I married Tommy Borobia and I woke up and laughed and laughed and laughed because that would NEVER happen, ohmygoshhahahahaha.