He's also a good snorer with amazing long-range reverberations.

This post is to tell everyone lucky enough to read this amazing blog that my husband is the shiznitt. Bomb diggity? Are these terms even viable anymore? Somebody needs a trip to urban dictionary! (It's me.)

Okay, just spent the last 15 minutes on that website and still have nothing to describe awesomeness of the hubs in terms that teenagers will understand. I'm hitting the big 2-6 this year, does that mean I have to watch programs on the CW or something to up my colloquial vocabulary?

By now you've probably gotten my meaning, but here's the missing 'how come?' Saturday morning I woke up to this on my laptop screen:

Dear Cassidy, I have taken your son. Do not attempt to contact me. Just follow the instructions below. Good Luck!

1. "Frankie Goes to Hollywood" and you should do what he says.
2. Thirty minutes before the sun reaches it's zenith, mother and child will reunite at the place of the third clue.
3. + -


First off, kudos for being so adorably Dom about this whole "morning off" thing. I didn't know what to do with myself. But eventually I celebrated by taking a shower with the door closed and going shopping at the mall. It was great to try things on without chasing after anyone or constantly removing goods from tiny hands before setting of any alarms.

Dom ended up taking Mikey to work with him because he had oodles of work to do and didn't to impose any of it on me. He also had to work overnight Sunday, but instead of coming home and sleeping on Monday, he took us to Gulfport to run errands and stop by the outlet mall! He ended up being up from about 8:30 a.m. Sunday morning until 10 p.m. on Monday. Never complained.

So, bomb-diggity-shizznit right?

Today's subject line quote is Darrin Stephens, "Bewitched" (1964) {Illegal Separation (#1.32)}.