By Mo Larson
So my husband Joe and I have been married for almost 14 years. I like to refer to it as “14 years of wedded bliss”. Sometimes the statement is ironic, and sometimes it is right on the money. If you are married, or have been married, or are in a committed relationship, you know that marriage takes a LOT of work. Or the good ones do anyway. One thing that Joe and I agreed on when we said our vows was that we’d always work hard on our marriage. And that we’d never become vegetarians. We were smart enough to know that our marriage could never endure that.
There are numerous reasons I married Joe. He’s really kind to people, he’s extremely optimistic about life, and he’s easy on the eyes. I don’t think anyone would ever refer to Joe as a metrosexual, but if you’re acquainted with my husband you know that he has a sort of cave man magnetism. Sorry for any unsettling images.
One of the main reasons I married Joe though, is that I instinctively knew that he’d be a really amazing dad. Plus he’s hot. From the time I was in about the 5th grade, as I began the uphill climb out of what I’ll generously refer to as “my tomboy days”, I knew that I wanted to have kids someday. Up until then I was still wearing my brother Brendon’s hand-me-downs, and I had an unfashionably short haircut that resulted in me being called “little man” at the gas station one time. Seriously. My mom told me that it was a “Dorothy Hammill” haircut, and that all of the chic little girls were getting it.
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