You know how I know you love me? You spent the evening celebrating birthday week with me, complete with dinner at a wine bar and listening to the Dallas Symphony Orchestra's Brass Quintet, instead of eating wings, drinking brewski's (Is that still a thing? Brewski's?) and watching the end of the madness of March. What a hunk.
I'm so glad I married a man that looks at sweet baby-faced, 18-year-old college students who are so awkward and you're just as endeared as I am to them. I almost wanted to adopt that 18-year-old college Freshman at the concert tonight. . . That would've been too far, right?
No, seriously. Would it have been? I'm seriously contemplating this.
No. No. Boundaries. Too far, Liz. Too far.
I love you,
Your New Wife who may have an adopted 18-year-old boy for you to come home to instead of an adopted 3-year-old dog.
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