It's a wonder he ever asked me out...

Let me preface this by saying I love my husband. I really do. He is a fine human being, attentive father, and he's mighty easy on the eyes. I often wonder, however, how he ever ended up asking me out back in 1989 when he worked at the bike shop and I was a mountain bike ranger at a local park. Granted, I had to keep "accidentally" riding through the rose garden, getting a flat, and then pretending I was incapable of fixing it myself. My apologies to the residents of Colorado Springs for wasting your tax dollars so. Before you come after me, however, you really ought to take down my co worker who spent her entire summer of "rangering" at her boyfriend's house (which happened to be next to the park) studying for the LSAT. I digress.

The point of my rant is this. My sweet, darling K likes to consider every aspect of any new idea (ad infinitum) before pulling the trigger and getting on with it. Today, for example, he's installing a dog door for Poppy. He bought the door last weekend. He unpacked it today. He was afraid it might be a little small (it is intended for dogs "up to 12 lbs." - Poppy teeters on the 9.5-10lb mark so we're golden). At this point, I left for a 90-minute shopping trip (grocery stores on the weekend, how I love you!). When I got home a few minutes ago, here's what had been accomplished - the kids had successfully coaxed Poppy through the (uninstalled) door 4 times using cheese and all the smoochy noises they could muster. Probably not necessary but arguably useful. K, on the other hand, had built a cardboard mock-up (in a size not commercially available to see if something "a little larger" might work better) dog door and installed it in our sliding glass door. I was greeted by a man with a furrowed brow and all kinds of really important questions about the installation.

I don't think he was very impressed when my answer was "put down the cardboard and X-acto knife and install the mother fu**er already!"

Now, to be sure I don't end up locked on the wrong side of the dog door tonight, it is important that I mention that once K actually makes a decision, he's sure about it. He's not a flip-flopper (unlike little ol' me). If he says he's going to do something for you, good luck keeping him from it. He's one committed dude. That's a beautiful thing. Bearing witness to his agonizing decision-making process however, is just plain ugly. Don't even get me started on the painful process of watching him try to spend a $50 Amazon gift card. I had to leave the room and breathe deeply until I found my happy place.