It’s again that time of the year in which there are back-to-back Frank events. In all frankness (<— ho, ho) I could go on and on about how ballsome this man is, but then I might run the risk of making you all sick with the minutiae of how he spoils me rotten by doing things like serving me breakfast in bed just because and rubbing my back until I fall asleep and…
today is totally not about our marriage. I’ll save that for Friday, which is our 16th anniversary. This isn’t about Frank as a husband; it’s about Frank as a father. Today is Father’s Day, and as of tomorrow, he’ll have been a father for 11 years.
Speaking of those almost-11-year-olds and their father:
…the man doesn’t age. I, however, am showing every one of the eleven years since the twins were born.
Happy Father’s Day, babe.