A Good Man Knows What Works

I may have mentioned it 1 or 957 times how much I love my husband. What else can I say? He's my best friend. He's my beloved. He's my Wonder Twin. (Just not my brother.)

So may I say that it was no surprise to him when I melted into a puddle of sobs tonight before dinner while trying to find my Bisquick (think pancakes, y'all). Things have been going on. Things I can't share. But things nonetheless. Things that have made me a weepy, snotty, sloppy mess. He knows this. He knows me. So he just came and hugged me and let me sob into his shoulder for a while. He then asks me what he can do to help.

In my moment of crisis, in true form, I sob, "will you take me to Target?". I love Target. He knows this. Target is my love language, people. He agrees. So after dinner (think pancakes, y'all), my therapy begins with a trip to Target.

On the way there (we only have the Baby Girl with us) I cry some more and he gives me his wise advice and I cry some more. And then I cried. Have I mentioned I cried yet? By the time we pull into the Target parking lot I'm feeling better. A good cry does that, y'know?

But wait my friends. Therapy does not stop there. Oh, no sirree. We walk into the store and he says those three words that melt my heart every time.

"You want Starbucks?"

Is the Pope Catholic? Why, yes! I think I'll have me a tall, non-fat, decaf, Cinnamon Dolce Latte with REAL WHIPPED CREAM. You see the non-fat and the REAL WHIPPED CREAM cancel one another out and I can partake with a clean conscience. Of course.

While sipping my Starbucks we wander through the store. Mustard, granola bars and a few other odds and ends find their way into my cart. We shop for Baby Girl because she received a gift card for Christmas. I'm feeling much better by now.

Then we went to the shoe department. May I just say that I am quite certain that there is a shoe-loving gene somewhere in my family because not only do I love shoes, but my mother loves them. My sisters love them. Madgirl, Sis and LiverPie love them. And I am quite certain that Baby Girl will love them as soon as her feet stop being so fat. But for now, her Robeez suit her just fine.

Anyway, this is where the man hit a home run!

He bought me shoes, people!

Shoe therapy works E-V-E-R-Y T-I-M-E!

These, to be exact.They are darling, are they not? And comfy too. Great for skirts and pants alike. And the best part?

Can we say CLEARANCE?! I do not lie, they were $14.98. 50% off!

So my meltdown is over and I've spent the evening with my husband, drinking Starbucks and buying shoes.

I figure the man spent about 20 bucks making me feel better. Not bad. I'm no longer crying and I have cute feet.

But the best part was just spending time with him. (And Baby Girl too, of course.) He knows that sometimes I just need him. And tonight I did.

Yep. A good man knows what works.