Call me Velveeta

I know it's cheesy, but I love my husband so effing much. I love looking at baby pictures of him because kid John looks alot like grown up John. The same haircut, the same blue eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same triangle nose. Grown up John is responsible and somber. I'm not saying the man never laughs, but he is always working on a project or analyzing something. I think that he would make the ideal Montessori student: everything is a task for him. Shopping is a task. Buying a TV is a task. Tennis practice is a task. Grown up John has an agenda, dude, and you better not get in his way. Kid John puts a toilet seat over his head and it got stuck. Kid John plays with his sister in the lake in front of their parents' house. In a picture that was probably taken before I was born, baby John laughs hysterically on a beautiful sunny day while sitting in his grandfather's lap in a lawn chair outside.
And now he sleeps next to me. When he wakes up he looks at me and smiles and says, "I love you." Then he rolls over. Seriously, when he just wakes up grown up John looks like kid John and it makes me so happy my heart hurts.
Told ya it was cheesy.