The Husband...

He calls this blog my "Snoop Bloggy Blog".

He calls Brady either Bubba or Stinky.

He calls Stella DUD, (Dumb Ugly Dog)

He will stay up to 3:00 or 4:00 AM on a work night playing Call of Duty: Black Ops and still wake up at 7:30 AM and go to work with no issue. He will do this a couple of times a week.

He has his own Hamburger Helper recipes.

He gets the worst buyers remorse I have ever encountered that will last for days.

His feelings are 90% mental and 10% emotional, but he is all heart.

He makes obnoxious noises while looking directly at me, just to see if a specific noise with bother me. They do. Every time.

He sings various children's songs throughout the day, but changes the words to poke fun at various members of our family, whether they have two legs or four.

He is in a minimum of two fantasy football leagues every year and the commissioner in at least one.

He named one of Brady's toy monkeys Spanky when he was an infant in hopes that one day, he would bring said monkey to school for show-and-tell and say, "This is Spanky my monkey." This happened earlier this month.

He bleeds blue and silver.

Everyone knows how drunk he is by how bloodshot his eyes are and close his head is getting to his shoulders.

I have never met one person, ever, that does not like him.

Brady wants to be just like him.

I want to be with him forever.

His name is Jimmy, not Jim or James.

He is my husband.

He is Brady's father.

We both love him unconditionally because he kinda rocks.

Manners or something like that...

I believe that manners are very important. I am very careful to say please and thank you and no thank you whenever possible. With Brady, Jimmy and I have always made sure to drill it into his little head to do the same. People always comment on how good his manners are, and I am always so proud. There has always been one exception to this rule for me. When I am at home I never say excuse me when I burp. For years I would always say "I wanna be a Diva". Why? Just something I picked up in a previous life that I wont get into here. Anyway, ever since Brady was born, Jimmy and I have always appreciated a good burp. Brady had a lot of tummy issues when he was little and a good burp would help a lot. Because of this every time he would burp Jimmy and I would praise him by saying "Good burpy Brady!" This ended up being a little joke that we would say to each other too even when Brady wasn't around.

Now that Brady is older and actually holds somewhat complete conversations with us he has picked up a lot of the things that Jimmy and I frequently say. For example, Jimmy and I both say "Whatever" a lot. Our only excuse for ourselves is that we grew up in the 80's and 90's and that is like totally how you talk. One day Brady asked me what color a crayon was so I told him it was blue, because it was. He went on to tell me that it was actually a green crayon. Since I am not one to back down from a good fight especially when I am right, I proceeded to tell him that it was blue. Instead of retorting again fighting his side of the case, he simply looked at me, rolled his eyes his shoulders and said, "What-ever" with as much attitude as a 13 year old girl. Shock and awe. I am so screwed. Anyway, since Brady picks up on how we talk, it was natural that he also picked up the good burpy phrase. So now as I sit on the couch and burp after drinking an entire Dr. Pepper in three gulps, cause I was thirstay yo!, my green eyed little boy looks up at me and says, "Good burpy, Mama!" Thanks, buddy.