Twelve years ago today I met my husband Colin. And according to him I “fell for the stone-cold hustle.” In Colin-speak, that means he had us set up. Oddly, I didn’t know until two years into our relationship.
But that is exactly the kind of thing I love most about Colin. He is damn funny and will tell you the most random thing at the strangest time. I guess it never occurred to him that he should tell me he had a mutual friend bring me to Zebo’s bar that night so we could meet. Or maybe it did and he simply thought it would have more of an effect at a later date. Either way, it’s a good story as most of ours are.
Colin is the kind of husband and father everybody wants, but many aren’t lucky enough to have. He is kind and thoughtful. He is patient and dependable. He is just about the cleanest person I have ever met. Seriously, he vacuums every day. He splits laundry duty with me. He does the dishes. He is obsessive about yard work. He can build or fix anything ranging from an IMAX movie theater to a 500 piece wooden swing set that wasn’t pre-drilled and arrived without instructions. He changes diapers. He reads to the boys. He teaches them about sports and the ins and outs of boating. He drives Teague to school every day that he isn’t traveling and sometimes he picks him up too if he has a few free minutes.
But most importantly, he has managed to put up with me every day for twelve years and rarely ever complains. In 2000, when I said, “Hey, I’m moving to San Francisco.” He said, “Ok, let’s go.” After a year there I said, “Hey, I got into grad school in Florida.” And he kindly drove our stuff back across the country. And in 2005 when I got pregnant and wanted to move back to Charleston, he thought it was a great idea.
Colin makes me happy every day and as his birthday and Father’s Day approach this weekend, I want him to know how special he is.
He’s amazing. I love him dearly and so do our boys.
Happy Father’s Day, babe and Happy Birthday to the coolest (and pokiest) dude I know.
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