Sharing space and the remote

He wears his scrubs even to lounge in, and I am obsessed with my Forever 21 leg warmers.

Side note: If you haven’t tried the limited edition fudge covered Ritz crackers, you must, now!

We wake up and eat breakfast while ESPN First Take is on.  Sometimes, SportsCenter is on while we eat dinner too, or if it’s a Sunday or Monday, some NFL game.

“Are you OK with this babe?” he asks after it’s been on for 10 minutes.
“Huh?  Oh, yeah, I’m really good at tuning this out and thinking about what I need to do today, it’s fine honey,” I answer.  And that’s the truth.

I love that he loves sports.  I love that knows all these crazy stats and names of players on teams like he’s a Yearbook editor.

According to Benjamin, the difference of being married and living with a girl includes: 1) More trash, especially the bathroom trash and 2) Water, everywhere, around the sink.  And to me, the only difference is – I turn on the TV and it’s always on sports or some other manly station I never knew existed.

I love that nothing is his anymore, even his space.  It’s all mine too. So, I sit on top of him.  Or partially on top of him.  I squish my butt against him at night just so he’s aware that I’m there.  There are things he does that makes me laugh so hard I almost pee my pants or I want to blog about it, but some things, I just can’t.  He said in his vows that he’d make me laugh every day.  He’s done a fantastic job so far.  I love a man who keeps his promises.

Diana Elizabeth is still not done with Christmas shopping.  Um….