Queen Jenn

I would like to start out my post with a large thank-you to my dear Paco. As much as we drive each other insane sometimes, he has been my knight in shining armor lately. (Does anyone have a spare suit of armor lying around? The visual is a bit of a turn on.) He has gracious wheeled me around, driven the entire way to Myrtle Beach and back by himself while I played with unicorns, carted me to various appointments, done all the laundry (um, he did run my miraclesuit through the washer and dryer, but, miraculously, the suit still lives up to it's name. It just smells like burnt tires now.), he has made dinner, fetched 414 glasses of water, pulled me from the depths of various toilet bowls, and he has lovingly tended to our dear 3 boys. And all this with only minimal amounts of sarcasm and narcissism.

I started off by asking him do things for me by saying something like, "hey babe, can you do me a favor? can you ________?" And he would do it for me without saying a word. After 20 or so rounds of this he may have snapped and said "it's not a favor. It's an order. Just tell me what you want already and stop saying I'm doing you a friggen favor."

Um, Ok, point well taken.

So now I just order him around. I have decided that I now need a tiara to make my transformation complete. How could he deny the orders of a woman wearing a crown, right? I think it's a brilliant idea. And I could call myself the supreme ruler. I am even thinking of bedazzling my crutches with 4 million rhinestones. If I have to use them for the next 5 months, they should be FABULOUS, right? I even talked to a friend yesterday about getting some flames and chrome wheels for the ol' wheelchair. I will only ride in style, you see.

Perhaps even a wand would be helpful. He did threaten to snap of my fingers when I pointed to him the other day and asked him to put "that over there." Gotta give the guy credit though. If the roles had been reversed, we all know that I would have pushed his wheelchair down the stairs by now. (With HIM in it!!) So, I am forever thankful for him. He really is a bit of a saint. Even if he does leave his sneakers lying around and I trip over them on my crutches. It's forgivable.

If you see Paco, give him a pat on the back and tell him he is a great guy, and he is doing a great job looking after his wife. And tell him that jewelry and flowers always make women feel better. Much better.

Now, I'm off to find my tiara . . .