A Good Man

Okay, so I know I always write about how Tom irritates me.

So I figured I should write about the good things he does so people don't begin to believe that I've married a stinker.

I promise, he's a good man.

I wouldn't tolerate any less.

For starters, he has a good heart. We've had blizzard-like conditions several times since we've been in Wyoming.

(Again, I swear I'm cursed because everyone tells us, "It's usually not this bad!")

There have been several people that have gotten stuck in their cars right in front of our house.

Tom is always the first one out there helping. He'll peek out the window and announce, "Oh no, someone else is stuck!" and he doesn't even hesitate to put on his snow gear, grab the snow shovel and trek outside to help.

He once did this five times in one day.

The last time I told him he didn't have to help.

I'm not heartless or anything but I knew how tired he had to have been.

"Look Amber, I've got to help," Tom insisted, pulling on his jacket. "It'll come back to me eventually, I know it will."

Then he was gone, outside, shoveling the person out.

He always puts money in those red buckets you see during Christmastime.

The salvation army ones I mean.

Always.

He'll dig in his pockets and hand over all his change and if he happens to not have any change he'll slip a dollar in.

It's not just on the way inside the store either.

It's on the way out too.

He feels that if he can afford to buy things he really does need (ie computer games, candy...) then he can always afford to give something to those who really need it.

He's always one of the first people to volunteer for things at work.

I admit, this bugs me a little bit.

Suddenly he'll come home and announce that he's volunteered for the latest parade or to drive people around who need it.

"Can't you let other people volunteer?" I'll grumble.

"The problem is, Amber, not many people volunteer these days. I figure I should help if I can help.." Tom replied.

He sings to me.

He downloaded a song by Meat Loaf.

I will do anything for love I think it's called.

And he played it for me in the truck.

But instead of singing, "I will do anything for love.." he takes out the love and sings, "I will do anything for AMBER.." Then he'll give my hand a squeeze and say, "And I would, too.."

He always holds my hand in the car too.

He massages my back and feet and always asks how I'm doing.

He talks to Natalie.

He'll wrap his arms around my waist, get down on his knees and talk right into my stomach.

"Hello Natalie, it's Daddy!"

He makes me fruit bowls.

I hate cutting up my own fruit.

I know, I know, laziness on my part.

I just hate it.

Tom, he's been cutting up apples and pears and sprinkling them with grapes every night.

"I don't mind doing it," Tom insists. "If you enjoy it, then that's enough for me.."

He even made dinner the other night.

He would let me buy anything I wanted I think.

He always tells me to pick out something for myself.

I usually say no.

"But you deserve it, I know you do a lot.." Tom will say.

I love to curl up on his lap. Of course that's harder to do these days what with my large stomach and all. I'll tuck my legs underneath me and ball up in his lap and just rest my head on his shoulder.

And he tells me he loves me every day, several times a day.

He says I was the best thing that ever happened to him.

The best choice he's ever made.

He even told me the other day, "I'm surprised you're still with me.."

I looked at him, startled. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I know I'm not the cleanest person around and I have a temper on me. I say things I shouldn't. And I know with me being a cop it's difficult for you because I can be on call at any time. I'm sorry I can't give you structure and promise that I'll be around at certain times because I just don't know.."

I reached out and squeezed his hand. "But Tom...I'm with you because I love you. You're a good man. You're a good father. You provide for us. I am so grateful that you're not like those other men who go out and get drunk every weekend or do drugs...you're smart and you make me laugh. I love you.." I smiled. "Plus, you married a woman who likes her space..so you being gone, it actually works out for me. Of course I miss you but at the same time, I enjoy it.."

Oh and he still picks me up. You know, the pick up that men do when they carry their brides over the threshold?

Of course when he tried to do that a few days ago he nearly broke his back but he pretended I was still as light as I was.

"Are you okay?" I asked as Tom's face turned bright red.

"I'm...great..." he choked out.

I love how he plays with Tommy. They'll wrestle or chase each other around the house and I can just see the love that he has for his son.

And, he puts my socks on for me.

If that isn't love, I don't know what is..