Booger Eater

I need The Hero's stability.

I also need him to move me off high center.

We've been debating moving for several years now.

I've been dragging my feet.

Part of my lethargy is laziness; I'd rather have a root canal than move.

The other reason is nostalgic.

The Hero and I fell in love here.

The Hero asked me to marry him in our kitchen.

This place has held 8 years of the highs and lows of us.

After weeks of house hunting, searching and crunching the numbers,

The Hero had fallen in love and ready to place an offer on a house.

He was pushing me for an answer.

Pushing.

Pushing.

Pushing.

At dinner a few nights ago, I lost my temper.

I told him in front of The Angel that he was the boss and I didn't care.

If he was ready to move our family, even if I didn't agree,

I'd go anywhere with him.

The Angel's nose recoiled into her face and she

shot me a look.

"Mommy, Daddy is the boss?"

"Yes baby. Daddy is the boss."

"But Mommy, why?"

"Baby, the Bible says that Daddy is the head of our family."

She paused and thought about it.

She raised her finger to shake it back and forth.

"Mommy, that may be true.

But Mommy, Daddy is still a booger eater."

The Hero and I both burst into laughter.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

"Baby, why do you say that Daddy is a booger eater?"

She huffed.

"Mommy, Daddy is a boy.

And all boys are booger eaters."