Sunday was a doozy, ya'll.
Father's Day, my birthday, I get sick (never happens), canceled our party (always happens), one week of no air conditioning in middle of a heat wave, no back up plan for the day. It was killer.
About noon, something in me snapped. I can't be sure but it kind of smelled like my will to survive.
So I excused myself for an hour. Didn't want Target, didn't want iced coffee, didn't even want to drive around aimlessly looking for yard sales. All I wanted was to drive to a Four Seasons and sleep in pillows for 3 hours straight but since that wasn't an option, I went back home before too long.
Then I found this:
and knew I married the one and only man who could turn a wee sticky note into an epic love letter.
Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Father's Day to him.
We both made out like banshees.
2 comments:
yay sticky note!
happy b-day!
much less space, much more love. :)
thank you, pj!
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