the kind of man I married

Mr. Clean has been such a sweetheart through this pregnancy, be it politely ignoring my seven month vomitfest, giving up bacon/garlic/chocolate/bananas, or handling my hormone-fueled crying jag when my bellybutton turned inside out (hey, it is kind of freaky!) with calm and understanding.

Saturday night I was especially touched when, after an hour of fidgeting around to find a comfortable spot on the couch as we watched a movie, I found one which involved me taking up 3/4 of the couch and my legs draped over his lap.  Of course, I promptly fell asleep.  I woke up some time later to find the movie over, and Mr. Clean sitting still as a statue in our quiet, dark apartment, my legs still draped over his lap.

"Why didn't you wake me up after the movie finished?" I asked, embarrassed.
"Because you found a comfy spot," he replied.  "It's hard for you to find comfy spots lately, I thought I'd let you sleep."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is just one example of how amazing my Mr. Clean is.  The thing is, he probably would have sat there all night long if I'd kept sleeping, because that is just the kind of guy he is.  I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky, but I sure love him!