Sunday, January 15, 2012

Boots and Love

Today, I worked at a bridal fair and wore new cowboy boots.


The really, really nice kind of cowboy boots that feel like they've been dipped in modge podge and laid to let rest for one hundred and seventy two days before you slip your feet in them. But! They are beautiful! So beautiful that I don't care that I got bloody feet at my first bridal fair as I tried to navigate what on earth I was supposed to be doing! So beautiful that I don't care that, afterwards, I had so have my husband rip those suckers off my feet because I couldn't do it myself. Cowboy boots and I have had a love affair longer than my love affair with Mr. C. and these beauts? They are the best ones I've ever had, so much so that, if I ever reveal them on this blog, it will be with real photographs and not Instagrams so that y'all can "aw" over them sufficiently.

On another love related note, I've been working so hard that I forgot to buy food for dinner tonight, so after the fair we broke one of our cardinal family rules (not spending money on Sunday) and went to one of my dad's restaurants (Applebee's... and it's not really his but they wouldn't be able to function without him!) and Mr. C. kept buttoning up his cardigan to show me what he would look like in sixty years:

mr. c.

And it's stupid and it's cheesy and everything I always said I would never, ever say about someone before I met Andrew, but while he was making stupid faces and buttoning the top button of his collar, I felt a little thrill rush through me because, since we fell in love three years ago, my world has shifted countless times. And right there, in the middle of Applebee's, unbeknownst to my husband, I started to tear up a little cause I love him and our baby boy (even though I should probably stop calling him that) and our past and all the things waiting for us in the future.

Then, less than half a second later, Max grabbed the bread off of my plate, stuck it in ketchup, and proceeded to eat it with a whole bunch of "mmm's" and double dipping and my little reverie was over because my child is the funniest.