We got to spend our "alone time" yesterday getting a couples massage and going out for dinner. Even if there was an hour and a half 5 mile car ride home. That's for another post though.Tonite we got together with some of Steph's non-romantical friends for food and games. It was a great time! Steph had to make my favorite treat, so I made a chocolate pie. I had to write her a poem:
For years I was embittered by what this day is all about
So tired of being lonely, it was enough to make me shout
“Get me out of this prison, spare me of this fate”
Then those dark days they ended with one blind-ish date
So many bad first dates, was sure I was cursed
Then you came into my life, a breath so refreshing
A joy to my soul that made my cold heart sing
Now three Valentines together we have spent
Time flies and we wonder where it all went
But my best friend beside me you will always be
So witty, so hottie, and right now a bit rolly
Mother of our children, here with us and yet to come
You’re my joy in completeness wrapped up with a cute bum
I love you my sweet heart, forever in love we’ll stay
I truly am ‘the luckiest’ and will be all our days
Well, she thought it was cute. I should also say that she gave me the most romanticallest gift ever! My new sweet baby, my new table saw. The picture above is the print that I got for her. It's going over the toilet so come on by and see it!

4 comments:
"non-romantical". Ha! Yes, that's probably true. The pie was scrumptious. Maybe next time Steph can do something instead of making Brian do all the work. Poem, pie - geesh, does she do anything? :)
Awe, Baby! I wanted to leave the first comment (reply), but Big K beat me to it!
I love you more! And you know that I am the real "luckiest", but you can pretend;)
I am absolutely amazed when I count all my blessings that are wrapped up in you! Thanks for being 'us' with me. Happy Valentimes!
And yes, Kristen, I am doing something right now - growing a fetus!
nice poem, beej.
steph, nice work on that fetus [i really don't like that word].
Post a Comment