On any given day, Keith delights in dressing up. Or at least looking dapper. He wears collared shirts, sweaters, vests, slacks, nice shoes, designer jeans... often, it will take him an hour to figure out what he's wearing on any given day. Too many options is most of the problem. He tries on one thing, takes it off, tries again. Eventually he stumbles across "the look" he was really hoping for, and then we're out the door.
Me in my basics. GapJeans, solid shirt, big scarf, jacket, boots/chucks. Keith in his ensemble (must be said with snooty french accent).
Basically, I married a girl. And not just any girl, but a girl who understands fashion, who loves interior design, and can pick out a fantastic bottle of wine. I married that mythological girl who is both hilarious and hot... Only handsome, and with boy-humor.
He works from home, I own a store. He wants to be a stay at home dad, and I'm content to work all day. Work all day where people can see me in the most basic of clothing while he sits at home in his get ups where only I see him. I'm not sure how this happened.
I took that picture at the top just after I found out that he scheduled a massage for me today. Something to relieve stress. Sometimes, I think he might be imaginary.
When he told me, I paused, said thank you, rubbed his back, and found this spot that made him go limp and twitch toward the floor. (Mwahahaha) He screamed out, "STOP IT!" and with a giggle, "I don't know whether I should moon walk or punch something!"
And then I took his picture (with the Mrs., which is awkward). To commemorate the moment.
Ohhhh, Marriage.
