The following is a poem that, I think, sums up our marriage thus far.
I was twenty when we met, and I asked him on a date,
But he almost blew it, showing up an hour late.
We were babies when we married, although we felt quite grown.
23 and 26, our wild oats not even sewn.
Five years later we found out that we had a baby brewin’.
Then along came a Lucas, who did my pelvis ruin.
Nine years we’ve been married now. It’s come and gone so
fast.
Suck it, all you haters who said we wouldn’t last.
Now times are even better. Can’t wait to see what else is in
store.
I think we’ll stick it out and see at least a few years
more.
I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I had the chance, because
He still fits me better than my favorite sweat pants.
He’s my best friend and husband who romances me with the
quip,
“Why spend money on a divorce when we can use it to take a
trip.”
The Wescott's 2011 |
Being a good Dad. |
Now, here are some pictures of him with his clothes off.
Handsome enough to be a part-time sock model. Can anyone else say that about their husband? |
Not him, but someone on a cereal box that resembles him.
I'm also going to include the Thunderballs video to give you an idea of what he's like in a live action (surveillance) situation.
|
Happy anniversary, Brantley Wescott! And, don't ever make me angry.
Happy, happy anniversary!
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