first thing this morning,
i walk into the kitchen,
get a big kiss from mr p.
he laughs, and tells me to look in the mirror....
so, i do.
and i see this...
(a pretty epic morning rat's nest of a head of hair... crazy dreams mixed with teasing my hair the night before will do that i suppose)
i think he really DOES love me, if he can still kiss me with a straight face and THEN laugh at me...
and if he can deal with my crazy need to pick scabs, pop pimples, and peel the dead skin off my peeling nose (leaving me slightly resembling Rudolph)
i suppose i'm one. lucky. duck.