God Bless The Working Man

These pictures came through my Google photos the other day, off Marc’s work phone, and they made me all warm and fuzzy inside.

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I don’t know about you, but I have a thing for the working man.  I tell my husband over and over again, “Being broke is totally worth you being this hot.”  (But I also like being broke, so there’s really no trade off.)  It’s all win, win around here.

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Don’t you just love hands?  Marc is an intellect, sensitive and artistic to boot, and you can still see it in his hands, no matter how dirty they are.  I also love how he’s wearing the plastic ring off an olive oil bottle for a wedding band, because that’s about how pretentious he is.

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I’m sure other women like their husbands.  And it’s nice of them to work hard all day to provide for their families, office or not.  But I tell you what, there’s nothing like a dirty, bearded, husband, stumbling into the house at the end of the day, smelling of chainsaw gas and cottonwood trees, hardly able to stand.  It’s my favorite.  You know I don’t ask for much.

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