Cold Toes

Every night when I climb into bed, inevitably, my toes are cold. Ice cold. Like you could mistake them for ice cubes, cold.  So, I snuggle up to Mr. Dunbar and shove my icy toes under is warm legs or bum.  He does this crazy wacky snake movement to shake me off and then says something like "Get off me Devil Woman!" And I laugh, he says its not funny, and I laugh again. Then he pulls my pillow out from under me and hits me with it, and then I tell him that's not funny. And then he laughs.This is how we go to bed almost every single night. Like a routine. Something to look forward to, something to fall asleep with a smile on your face. 

I asked him last night if he thought everyone went to sleep the way we do?  He said, "No," a lot of people, men in particular, probably have other "outlets." It made me sad.  But it also reminded me of how good I've got it:

A husband who loves me.

A husband who laughs with me, and at me.

A husband who comes home to me every single night.

And then I rolled over, thanked God above, and fell asleep. With a smile on my face.

And of course, a picture... from last week's basketball practice. He looks like he's about to fall asleep. That's what 4:45am mornings do to you. But he woke up real quick when Monkey had to go potty.

~mrs. dunbar