Mommy blogging about 2 daughters, 1 hubby, a couple of ditzy cats, and me.

You’re a gruff, silent man, overshadowed by your loud, affectionate wife. Every baby in the family fell asleep when cuddled on the warmth of your enormous rumbling belly. You napped too, and your rafter-shaking snores were the white noise that kept anything else from waking the babes.

You were in your 20s before confessing to your gaping parents who burned the house down. You and your brother had been sneaking a smoke when your mom yelled for you. Startled, you tossed the lit cigarettes aside and forgot them. It seemed like an electrical fire.

Tall, lean, and longhaired with smoky bedroom eyes, you soothed my devastated ego after my divorce. But I was an emotional wreck, and you smoked too much pot. After our breakup, you complained for weeks until I remembered to return a wine bottle opener you left behind.