💕💕My husband once told me.💕💕

Dev and I met when we were kids in a little podunk FL town... smack dab in the middle of fuck all. We were having a random conversation in our kitchen the other day, and I asked him what was the "thing" that made him want me as a girlfriend back then.

His answer?

Sweetheart... you were just SO nice. Like, the nicest... sweetest person I had ever met in my life. I met you and was like, every person on this planet is a complete piece of shit... except for her. Because she's so damn nice. I had just never met anyone like you before... and honestly, still haven't. You're the only one like you out there.

And I cried, because I have emotions and I don't care what you say, that's the sweetest fucking thing ever.

Also... one time we were talking about "celebrity crushes" and while we both agree I couldn't be mad at Dev if he ever got a shot with Jason Momoa... he also let me know he got to marry his celebrity crush.

Because his celebrity crush is Drew Barrymore... and apparently I am his real life Drew Barrymore. He actually thinks that I am on the same wavelength and level as THE Drew Barrymore.

And honestly, I just wanted to marry him all over again.

That's some shit on the internet a kid says and no one believes it.

Every now and then one of the kids in our lives pops off with some shit that completely throws Dev and me. This time... it was our nephew, Gabriel. 

We see him the most out of all the kiddos (he stays at our house every other week or weekend) and watching him grow and be the age and size he is now... well, it's mind-blowing. Mostly, because I remember when he was a little tiny baby. I digress.

This past weekend, Dev and me were in our kitchen talking (this is where we spend the most time with or without company... like our congregation room and neither of us knows why), and Gabriel walked up on my left... probably in search of candies or treats. He must've noticed the tattoo on the top of my wrist (how it's taken this long I don't know but that's a seven year old attention span for you) that says "Tayder."

He looked a little confused and when I asked him what was wrong, he pointed at it and asked, "is that Spanish?" Dev told him, "no buddy, that's cursive" to which he replied...

"Where's that?"

I immediately walked into my brothers room and was like, "dude, do they not teach cursive to kids anymore?" and he informed me that no, they don't, because they consider it to be a "dead language." A dead language as in... like, Latin? Because they still teach some people that but cursive is off the table.

The f*ck?! WHAT?!

Sidebar: I don't really know if they still teach people Latin but I feel like I'm right on this (even though I have nothing to substantiate it).

I'm not saying you have to learn cursive to thrive or survive in life, but I do feel like you should make kiddos aware of what it at least is. I realize I'm thirty-four and the advances in technology are progressing so quickly that I can't keep up, but... I still use cursive on a daily. Even if it's only for my signature.

Wait... do you not have to sign your name in cursive for important documentation anymore? I have to look into that.

The point is, shit cracked me and Dev up. He made a joke about how they made his ass learn that shit growing up and how much he hated it (and basically all schooling in general). I made the joke that we're finally that age where we sound like our parents and grandparents.

"When I was growing up... back in my day... when we were kids... I don't understand this new age shit..." F*cking hilarious.

Time isn't real and 2023 is creeping like a three-part Netflix documentary.

I've essentially felt like I've been in a time warp since the Friday before Christmas... so... December 23rd?! I've basically just decided that between that time and this coming Monday (ie: the day after the first of the year and my final day of the last three day weekend I'll have for awhile) time means nothing and we're pretending to live in a calm and serene bubble. 

Worrying about what will be and what is and what's going to sounds like a fucking 2023 Katie problem and I stand behind that reasoning. Sure, I'm doing all the things required of my adult life (work... ok, I'm just going to work, that's all), but I've decided I like having a carefree and oohsah attitude, so I think I want to keep it moving forward.

And in the spirit of keeping with that trend, I'm going to tell you a random story. Fact? Statement? Whatever.

I should probably start this out by saying D and I fell asleep at like eight thirty last night, but I was awake by eleven thirty, got up, took a shower, did dishes, and proceeded to not sleep for the next... until my alarm went off this morning, D also tossed and turned all night (when one of us can't sleep the other can feel it... or something). By the time my alarm went off I was reading a book on my Kindle and D rolled over and we proceeded to watch Tiktok videos together until well after six.

Once we rolled out of bed and I did the bare minimum to make myself presentable for the human population... we proceeded to stand in our kitchen talking while I made my coffee and he essentially made me feel better about having to deal with people that aren't him or our pups today.

Before I tell you what D said and how I laughed and knew it was beyond accurate, I feel like there needs to be a little context for you to understand this. I believe that our relationship is so loving and fun, because we're the best of friends along with being together. And I know people say their significant other is their best friend all the time, but when I say it, I legitimately mean it. He truly is my best friend and I could spend 25/8 with him and be perfectly fine with it. Unhealthy and codependent? Absolutely. Do I give a shit? Not even one.

With this level of friendship also comes our constant honesty. Neither one of us are under the impression that we're perfect. We both have our faults and where one slacks the other picks it up. It's not a problem for us, because all the things I hate doing he does and all the things he hates I don't mind doing. Sure, we like to tease each other about it, but neither of us truly care to do it for the other. We know our strengths and weaknesses and love each other for them. How boring would it be if everybody did the same things all the time without fail? Ugh.

So... while D has been home alone with the pups all day, he's been cleaning and organizing and basically doing all of the things we've been talking about needing done around the house that we just keep putting off.

Why do we keep putting them off? Well... because they're all things that are not "difficult" projects but are "time consuming" projects. Which means we can't really do them after work... because my anxiety will not allow me to shut off my brain until a project is completed once it's been started... but would default to weekend projects. Honestly, once the weekend rolls around we want to spend time together doing fun things or resting from the hard ass week not do adult projects that make me want to pull my perfectly ridiculous hair out.

And yes, we both realize that every other person on the planet has to figure this shit out and make it work, but D and I have a very unique approach to our lives and the way we live them... another million explanations for a million other days.

Back to the point. So, D has been doing all these projects by starting them first thing in the morning and having them done by the time I'm home from work in the afternoons. Which means I get to see all the amazing results and the vision we've talked about a million times come to life, but I don't actually have to see or participate in the anxiety inducing clusterfuck of it all. If I'm being honest (which I often am... sometimes to a fault) I love that shit, dude. It has been the best and now all I can think about are the fun things I get to do, because all the boring shit is out of the way.

The garage? Taken care of. Apparently Trav is coming by this morning (that boy will show up at four o'clock this afternoon and pretend it's nine in the morning *cry laughter*) to help D load up and haul off all the stuff we know for a fact is garbage. Then all that will be left is going through the boxes and sorting through what we keep, what goes to my brother, what goes to other family members, and what gets thrown out. I know it sounds daunting (because it is), but some of this stuff I've been moving around with me my entire life and I've been avoiding it all for going on four years. I think it's time I stop avoiding and start dealing with the last piece I haven't started dealing with yet.

The kitchen? Amazing. That's all I have to say about it and he's not even done yet. He rearranged our shelving and reorganized the entire system... got rid of some things and revamped the rest. He's got our bottom shelves left and then it will all be done. All I'll have to think about is how I want to paint our cabinets when the time comes. *swoon*

In fact, he's done so much around the house and in general lately that I kind of just want to jump his bones all the time, because that shit is sexy without even meaning to be sexy. You know what I mean? Maybe I'm just reading too much smut on Kindle.

Anyways... while we were talking this morning we were discussing the things that are done and the next things he's going to start on (quite literally the only man on the planet I know that requested a "honey-do" list) and he said, 

"I know you don't really like change... especially when you have to deal with it... but I was hoping that with me doing it all you would like it."

Bro, write that on my fucking tombstone. If that isn't the most accurate description of my personality I don't know what is. I immediately started laughing which in turn made him start laughing and next thing I know I just felt good. He has that way. I don't know what he does or how he does it, but somehow and someway he just makes me feel... good. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.

Because it's the truth. I love absolutely everything he's done to the house/garage. It's incredible and so fun and cozy and basically a dream come true. It's both of our eclectic personalities coiled into one tiny little space and I am HERE FOR IT. 

But just the thought of doing it all had me nervous twitching like a tweaker. And he knew that. He knew that I would eventually do it, but as soon as I started it I was going to get overwhelmed and in my own head about it. The man just knows me too well. So... he did it. He did all the things that could be done without me directly being there and he'll help me with all the rest moving forward. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the kind of support and love that I want to continue throughout not only the new year, but our lives together. 

I'm not perfect. So far from it I can't even see it as a blip in my rearview... and he not only knows that but accepts it and loves me for it. We love that we both acknowledge that we're human and we don't expect perfection out of each other. We only need and want love and understanding. We want to be together and live our lives our own way.

So yeah... I've been in a time warp for a week now... but I know once life catches back up and the anxiety and dauntingness that is the everyday starts creeping in that my husband will have my back and we'll keep doing it together. Because we truly are a pair now. You get one, you best be ready for the other, because we don't really like to do anything without the other.

Again, codependent? More than accurate. Do we care? Behold the field in which we grow our fucks... and see that it is barren.

This is random and means nothing to you, but it's hilarious to me.

The other day, hubby and I were talking about something... I can't even remember what... geez, how old am I getting? Either way, we were talking about something and you ever have one of those moments where you're like that doesn't mean what I think it means does it? 

Well... one of those moments was had and it cracked me up more than it probably should've.

D: "TITS FOR TOTS!"
Me: "..... ??? ..... ???"
D: "wait.... no.... that's not what I meant... ?? ... buuuu...."
Me: "......tit for tat?"
D: "TIT FOR TAT! THAT'S IT! That's what I meant! See... you got me! Soulmates."

And that ladies and gentlemen, is one out of the five bajillion reasons why I love this man. There's never a dull moment, he makes me laugh, and keeps me on my toes!

We talk about how glad we are to be married to each other all the time.

**while watching Catfish on tv (yes, we watch reality tv…. ok, I watch it and my hubby just indulges me)**

Catfishee: “I don’t even know if I should say what he said.”

Nev (+ me): “Oh, you should definitely tell us what he said.”

Catfishee: “He said, I wanna sniff, smell, and eat your ass.”

Me: **turns to D** “Damn. Pickup lines have gotten so graphic these days. It’s really just Mad Max out there.” D: …………. Me: “I just aged myself like thirty-five years, didn’t I?” D: **kisses my forehead, chooses to not answer, and goes back to his game** Me: **knows I’ve been appeased, but honestly I can’t blame the man** 

Our love language is sarcasm and I am here for it, baby.

 **does some random cleaning and pulls wedding arch out of our garage**

D: “I‘m just gonna spray this down and clean it up.” Me: “Ok, just be careful of the flowers up top.” D: “They’re fake, right?” Me: “Nah, they’ve just been living in our garage for a year and a half with no sunlight, water, or soil.” D: “……….” Me: “They’re Jesus flowers.” D: **sprays me in the face with the water hose**

Side note: When you tell the hubby you (unrealistically) want your wedding arch in the house and he makes it happen anyways.

I am an extremely lucky (and overindulged- via my hubby) woman. D makes sure he takes care of me and spoils me to the point of being rotten, and I definitely don't hate it.

I never thought that I would A: be spoiled and B: enjoy it as much as I do. But, here I am living the dream. Don't get me wrong, I also like to spoil D and he thrives on it too. We hate telling each other no and our family crest should probably say "Treat Yo Self" but that's neither here nor there.

If people don't like it? Well, I guess they can't come and hang out under my cool wedding arch (ie: our living room).

Apparently, I've been around longer than what I realized.

**D and I talking about random stuff standing in the kitchen**

D: “I was reading a thing that said red doesn’t hold in tattoos very well over a long time.”

Me: “My first tattoo still has the red in it like it always has.”

D: “When did you get it again?”

Me: “When I was thirteen so almost twenty yea-…..”

D: “Gonna finish that sentence?”

Me: “Nope.”

Hubba.... Hubba.... Hubby. 😍 (He's so damn.... just.... just damn!) 😍

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, D and I have some of the most random conversations. At this point in our lives neither one of us is surprised by what comes out of the other ones mouth. 

For example, the other night we were messing around and getting ready for bed and out of nowhere, D looks at me and says, "so, I heard a TikTok song on the radio today." To which I replied, "holy shit, was it the Applebee's song?" We then proceeded to have a fifteen minute conversation about how we didn't know it was a legitimate song and how it blew our minds when we figured it out together on the same day.

Followed by looking up the song and listening to it together and discussing how catchy it was.

Like, what?! What is even happening?!! Who in their right mind has an entire conversation (the length of a bedtime routine!) about trendy songs they didn't know were real? Even that sentence doesn't make sense! 

And it didn't even stop there. We still randomly talk about it when we're laying in bed or look at each other with big eyes when it happens to come on the radio. LIKE WE DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS LEGIT AND WE'RE JUST LEARNING IT FOR THE FIRST TIME EVERY SINGLE TIME.

But, you know what? I wouldn't want to share my randomness with anyone else. It's a very freeing feeling when you're so comfortable with yourself and your person that nothing is off limits. D told me one time that he couldn't believe all the things we talk about as a married couple. Things he thought were forever off limits apparently went out the window as soon as we signed that marriage license. Now, nothing is off limits. NOTHING. 

I know that doesn't sound very convincing seeing as I used the "Applebee's song" as my example, but I swear, it gets much more insane and disgusting. The good, the bad, the ugly.... the motherf*cking fugly. The list goes on from there. I'm pretty sure there are times the people around us think to themselves, "would y'all f*cking stop already?! you're too much! we don't want to know all that!" Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that part? We're so used to it being just the two of us (and our pups!) that we sometimes forget when we're around other people and discuss very graphic and/or disgusting things like we're in our own little world. (#mypoorinlaws)

The world of Devon and Katie, where whatever we want together reigns supreme. It's a good world to live in. You know, if you're us. We just hang out in it and adore each other. (And yeah, I know how cringey that sounds).

I'd be lying if I said I didn't love the fact that to my husband I am a wife, best friend, confidant, lover, homie, nurse, auctioneer, lawyer, accountant, surgeon, mama bear, baker, movie critic, hillbilly, hippie, coffee maker, singer, and his love. I love that he thinks I could take over the world and I'm the smartest person he's ever known. I adore the fact that he's convinced I could fight my way through anyone and actually thinks I have my shit together. Even though he literally sees the fact that I don't every single damn day of our lives. He calls me his "beautiful blue-eyed barefoot bandit" and that somehow always makes me melt into a puddle of goo and blush like there's no tomorrow.

Hello everyone, my husband is the ultimate hype man.

He always knows what to say to make me just stare.... and other happenings in our world.

Yesterday, I had the moth tattoo on my forearm redone. I love the tattoo in general, but the color was coming out and since it's the largest tattoo I have and it's literally RIGHT THERE, I wanted it to be complete and look better. 

I wanted to keep D's original design and as much of him in it as I could, so basically his design was used and Ross just enhanced it's features. To say that I love it would be an understatement, since I adore it, but if it wants to go ahead and un-swell and heal, I would totally not argue with it.

When I got home after my appointment, D was on the phone with his mom. Unfortunately, not all is good with the world and we found out that my FIL has kidney cancer. He goes to have more tests done today and he has to have surgery and a kidney removal coming up soon. D and I talked about having to go down to FL to help out his mom and see his stepdad and help them out if need be. D was extremely worried and I told him we would figure it out like we always do and that I have his back, regardless.

Then we segued into a million other conversations trying to relax and take his mind off of everything. 

Out of nowhere D just looked at me and said, "You're so damn beautiful. Like, forreal. Like, you're whole face, just your face, I'm obsessed. Don't get me wrong, I love all of you and you're sexy as hell, but your face.... you get this one look sometimes, and I don't even know if you know you're doing it or what face it even is, but you make this one face and as soon as you look at me.... I'm gone. Done for. It completely wrecks and ruins me and you can literally have any and everything you want, because I can't say no to you. I just really f*cking love you. I hope you know that."

And what was my reply? I just stood there like an idiot, blinking, because I couldn't for the life of me figure out how I got so motherf*cking lucky to have this dude in my life.  

My hubby informed me that I'm it and I am here for it.

As most people that have met us know, D and I talk about the most random things sometimes. There is no such thing as a filter and honestly, we're pretty crass with each other for the most part. Don't get me wrong, we're not nasty to each other or anything, we just have the benefit of our relationship being between people who happen to love each other and are also best friends.

And I always thought that was weird, you know, saying that the person that you're in a relationship with is your best friend, because then who are you supposed to bitch to about your significant other? 

Well, that doesn't really qualify for us, as when he pisses me off or vice versa, we simply tell each other why we're pissed off or we hold a grudge for a day or two and then we're back.

We're lucky. We don't fight or argue, we rarely have disagreements. And when we do have disagreements, we talk it out and eventually find a common ground that we can both live with and move on from.

I'm stubborn and he's easy to anger, so we both just step back and try to look at it from the others point of view. So far, it works very well for us.

But, like I said, our disagreements are very few and far between. We would just rather be happy instead of nitpicking each other. Who in the hell wants to live miserably anyway? I certainly don't. 

More importantly, we LOVE to mess with each other. Whether it be little comments or smacking each others butts when we walk by, we like to play around. We also seem to have most of our in-depth talks either on our backporch (when it's evening time and we're grilling or just hanging out) or especially our kitchen. Don't ask me why we have our most important talks in the kitchen, but it just happens.

I was feeling a little more emotional a couple of weeks ago than I normally do (hey! it happens to all of us and I was just having a really bad day, ok?!) and in true D fashion, he was joking around with me and talking about the most random things to try and make me feel better. We were talking about a dude we know having a few "side chicks" and I asked D if I was his "side chick" as a joke. His response however? It was charming. He said, and I quote:

"Sweetheart, you're my side chick, my main chick, my only chick, my wife, my love, my best friend, my go to.... hell, you're even my hush hush chick. You're it for me, baby. Get used to it."

And to say that he actually got me to stop rambling and be quiet after that, would be an understatement. Everybody should get to be as lucky as I am in the husband department.  

If somebody else had my voice.... I would hate them.

Have y'all ever listened to your own voice on recording? Like, legit, never heard your own voice and then you hear it on a video from someone's phone or something and it completely blows your mind? No? Just me? Alrighty then....

I've always had problems with my ears/hearing. I'm not sure what the problem stems from (#growinguppoorwedidntgotothedocoften), but the fact that it has always been a factor in my life is forever real. Sure, it's been a problem in the past and it still is from time to time, but I accepted long ago that I'll probably have to have hearing aids or some form of help earlier in my life than alot of people.

And I'm ok with that. I accepted it long ago. Not to mention, between my inability to hear and my penchant for zoning out of most conversations and not even recognizing others, let's just say life can and will be peaceful.

But, with all random things, I found myself in complete bafflement when I heard my own voice on D's phone. To me, my voice sounds fairly deep and I don't have an accent at all. Like, NOT ONE BIT. However, that is apparently not the case. You see, when we were in Florida, we spent a few days at D's dad's house and we shot off fireworks and ammo. And let me tell you, D was so excited to see me shooting rifles that he immediately started filming.

Don't get me wrong, I've shot plenty of guns in my day, after all I used to hunt growing up living in Tennessee, but I haven't shot anything other than a handgun (at a range) for many years. So, D had never seen it. (But now that he has, I'm convinced that the whole "guns and ammo" centerfolds are necessary, because the dude loved it).

What I didn't expect though, was to hear my own voice talking to his dad in the video and me being completely flabbergasted at the fact that I sound.... like a straight up high pitched hick. 

I mean, I've always known I was a hillbilly. Once you grow up that way and it's engrained into your bones and soul, there's no going back. But, I didn't realize how thick my accent still is. As in, it's not going anywhere. My voice is much higher pitched than I could tell.... almost like I'm secretly calling dogs to me like a special whistle (maybe I am, you don't know my life!) and my accent is STRONG and THICK.

I know that sounded dirty, but try to refrain yourself. 

No one could believe that I didn't know I actually sounded like that, and when I told some of the guys at work that I didn't realize I had an accent they all slowly turned to look at me dead in the face with a "are you f*cking serious?" look on their faces. It was quite comical to say the least.

The look on my face the first time I heard my own voice had to have been priceless and when I cringed and shut my face behind my hands in embarrassment and asked D if I truly sounded like that, he just laughed and insisted that yes I did in fact sound like that ALL THE TIME. He claims that it's cute and it's one of his very favorite things about me (and that all of his family also adores the holler coming out with my words), but I'm still debating on whether or not he truly does love it and thinks it's adorable, or he's trying to placate me and not be my costar on an episode of Snapped.

The jury is still out on that one.

Either way, it's my voice and while it might not be all that appealing and it is in fact a tad bit embarrassing, I have lived with it my entire life and I'm always immensely proud to have been raised in the middle of nowhere surrounded by good people and no matter where I go, a little piece of my roots is forever with me every time I open my mouth to say a few words.

My husband and I have a weird and sarcastic relationship.... and that's just the way we like it.

 **me and D talking in our kitchen last night**

D: Sweetheart, can you believe we’re both 31 now?

Me: It’s all good. You age like wine and whisky.... you just get better with age.

D: Oh yeah? Then what do you age like, my love?

Me: Bread. I age like f*cking bread.