After blogging about each of my four kids I realized that I can’t leave off my fifth child. Okay, well I supposed he isn’t my child, but there are times when . . . Actually I love it and wouldn’t have it any other way. My hubby is funny, goofy, and often times a flat out cornball, but that is what makes him such a great father. He always makes me laugh and has a very strong testimony of the gospel, which is so important to me. He is my best friend in the world and he puts up with my corny moments, sad moments, “emotional” moments ;), and my crazy angry I’ve had enough of the kids moments. He is my strength, my love, and most importantly, my comic relief.
He is a funny guy. I think most people would probably think that we are just a couple of nut jobs. We “sing” to each other about feeding the children or other everyday activities in silly operatic voices, we moo (there is a story behind that), we yodel out the car windows as loud as we can, we tease, and play at the park (without our kids sometimes). Our poor children are doomed, they will probably be the poor teenagers that hide from their parents saying, “I really have no idea who those wierdos are”
Sometimes I think that it was a good thing that I was blessed with a good sense of humor. Not only am I a miserable klutz (I’ll have to write about that another time) but sometimes my hubby will start off trying to say the sweetest thing and something entirely different will pop out. Its that whole not thinking about how what you say is really going to sound like and it has given us a lot of laughs. I try not to tease him too bad. Probably the funniest moment was the story of the cow.
We hadn’t even been married for an entire year yet and I was pregnant with our first. (We honestly didn’t want to have kids right away, we had that whole wait at least a year plan and Heavenly Father obviously disagreed with us) It was toward the end of my pregnancy so I was probably at least 8 months pregnant and huge 🙂 . We were living in a small apartment in Provo, UT and because we had nowhere else to put it we had all of our food storage under our bed, so our bed was up on cinder blocks. It made it interesting being so pregnant getting in and out of bed. This one particular evening I had snuggled down with a good book on the bed and was just relaxing. Paul came in and sat down and suggested we had family prayer (I think I must have been looking sleepy). Well, there was no way I was going to climb off the bed and then right back on, I was staying. So we just knelt on the bed for prayer. After prayer I leaned forward so I was on my hands and knees and then Paul reaches over pokes me in the side and knocks we over (all in good fun). I kick my legs a bit and laugh and then Paul pipes up, “Gee! That’s just like cow tipping!” he immediately realized what he had said and clapped his hand on his mouth looking horrified. I of course have to take full advantage of the opportunity to harass him as much as possible and said, “You just called me a cow!” Now, keep in mind here that I found the situation immensely amusing and I knew that he hadn’t meant anything derogatory at all and was just trying to be funny. He looked even more mortified and shook his head and insisted that he had meant nothing of the sort and was apologizing profusely, so I looked at him sniffed and said, “Fine, every time I say I love you I’ll just mooooo!” and started laughing insanely. At that moment he realized that I was not upset and that I found the whole situation hilarious. We have been mooing to each other ever since and it has provided a great source a fun. In Jan. for his birthday we had a “cow” party and I made him some cow pajama pants. And then for Easter I had found another pair of cow pants that said “Got Milk?” on them. Seeing how as we were at the hospital for Jacobs surgery on Easter we wore our matching cow pants for comic relief that day.
I think he is an awesome guy and a marvelous father and husband. He’s not perfect but he tries to help and do as much as he can. He is thoughtful and caring and is always willing to serve and help someone in a tight spot. I could go on forever but I’ll spare you all 🙂 In short I think I’m pretty lucky and wouldn’t trade my life for anything or anyone’s. To my Hero : I hope you read this, “MOOOO!” 🙂