Who knew?

Eighteen years ago, I was nervously getting ready for a first date. Thanks to Eric and a very fun weekend at cheer camp, he was finally convinced I was a catch. There are no "written" rules in the handbook about dating your stunt partner. And look where we are today . . . me, at home, barely any makeup on, lucky to have had a shower, breaking up fights with our 2 girls, keeping the boys from destroying every room in the house, continually asking at least 3 to stop talking about poo-poo and pee pee and for goodness sakes, keep some clothes on . . . and you, moving up the ladder at work, driving your dream vehicle, just graduated from a prestigious Executive MBA program, coming home to a well prepared meal and sort of clean house. You betcha' I was a catch . . . and still am! Love you Ben. (By the way, I would fake sleeping all over again!)