My dad also has a soft side. Yup, he can be a softy. He would tuck all of us kids into bed, even when we were obnoxious teenagers.
Some other tid bits about my dad are: he's a hard worker and a perfectionist (I blame him for my OCD tendencies); he helps around the house ALOT; he is a human encyclopedia (he knows every fact there is about every mountain and animal, known to man); he adores his grandchildren; he once tried to stop his 2 ton truck from rolling down a steep hillside, with his body and broke his leg in the process. (but he didn't go to a doctor for a week. He thought that if he refused to admit that his leg was, INDEED broken, it would heal all by it's self in a couple of days. Instead he shaved his leg because even his leg hair was hurting his leg too much. Hahahahahaha! Oh, good times! What a nerd.)
He also has a great sense of humor. He is the "root" of all of his children's naughty senses of humor.
Grandpa and Grandma with mom, her brother, and sister, on the farm.
I only knew my husband's grandfather for a short time. My fondest memory of him was when Steve and I stayed with his grandparents in Idaho for a weekend, while we were dating. Steve's grandparents adored each other! His grandma told stories about her husband, in his youth. He was a cheerleader, while in highschool, and apparently was quite the gymnast.
"He would do flips across the field! Mmmmmmm! He looked so good!" his grandma would proclaim. It was fun to see that they were still hot for each other!
On one of the mornings, while staying with Steve's grandparents, I had yet to apply my make-up or curl my hair. Not my most appealing moment. Steve's grandpa pointed out my "blemishes" and told me that I had better keep an eye on them so that they wouldn't become cancerous. I was touched that he was worried that my zits were cancerous.
Steve's grandpa's passing came at a time when we were about to welcome our first son. I often thought that our son was being carefully watched over by his grandmother, and great grandfather, while we waited for his arrival.
Last, but not least, is my main man. The father of my boys, my best friend, and my hunk of burning love.
There are times when I feel as if my heart will explode with complete joy, when I think of how blessed I am to have such a wonderful husband and father to my children.
He knows me better than anyone in the world and yet, still loves and accepts me. Despite my faults.
He still makes me laugh, after all of these years, and we still got "it". Butterflies in my tummy, and all.
He can change diapers faster and better than me and loves our kids, like there is no tomorrow. (I am jealous of his diapering skills)
One of my favorite memories of Steve, is when we were on our third date. He displayed his unique talent of performing the Chinese splits. It's true. Before I knew it, he plopped down on the floor in front of me and stretched one leg to the left and the other one to the right. It was magnificent! I believe that was the very moment that I knew he was the one and that he had to be the father of my children.
And then there were the moments when he first held our babies, after they were born. Pure happiness.
He makes me and my boys happy beyond measure and I truly, deeply, madly, love him.
I like to torture my three guys, by dressing them in the same attire.
Holy Hee Haw Honey, I married this guy!