It occurred to me only very recently (like, yesterday) that I’ve never even so much as posted a picture of my poor husband. And that makes me feel guilty. He’s a good guy. I like him. He puts up with my Italian fantasies , he let me post a picture of his mullet. He’s even there with a video camera every time I feel like doing a little dancing. When the computer is all kerfuffled, he un-kerfuffles it.  And he wouldn’t mind one bit if I freaked out and did some weird thing in front of him.  In fact, he’d probably really, really like it.

And not only is he a talented and secure man, but he’s also really, very helpful around the house:

He pitches in loading the dishwasher.

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He helps with the laundry.

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He cleans up after kitty.

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He’s very handy in the garage.

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He fixes my car for me.

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But it doesn’t stop there!

Oh no, no!

Hubby is a real Renaissance man.

He plays the guitar.

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And he’s a voracious reader too!

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He can just sit and read for hours!

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And so I dedicate this post to the super important man behind the woman behind the blog.  I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.

As you can plainly see, I’m a pretty lucky lady.