So when my dear husband came home from work I was feeling fine (I thought). My little one had spent the last half hour clinging to my legs and putting her tiny body in between me and the stove then using her tiny butt to "BUTT" me away from my cooking (which I RARELY do). She had been whining and crying and even holding her wasn't making her happy... I call it her "Witching Hour" because I never know why she's grouchy and it's around the same time every day.
So my husband walks in and I must have looked like death. I had been having a great day but the last week had been long days and nights with sick kid and apparently I was wearing a pooped out look on my face.
He said, "Do you want to get out of the house for a while?"
I said, "No.... well, maybe."
Him, "Do you want to go buy some shoes?"
Me, Long pause..... (This normally shouldn't be a hard thing to convince me of ) ........."okay."
I went upstairs and put on real clothes for the first time that day and left feeling so stoked to have such a sweetie of a guy.