Why do I call him The Oracle?
Simply put, he's brilliant, he makes me laugh my hiney off, and he knows how to get me off the ledge. When I'm angry beyond rational thought, I gripe to him and come away with a sensible way to handle things. Better still, he also knows when I just need a pair of ears to hear my tirade so I can get over it and move on with life.
He's an excellent daddy and much more patient than I am on most days.
He cleans the bathroom and scrubs the floors, two jobs I utterly detest.
He cooks (best chocolate chip cookies ever).
He changes the litter pan.
He wipes B's butt.
I really don't know what I'd do without him. I'd probably be gibbering in corner somewhere. He certainly doesn't deserve the punishment I dish up, but he tolerates me to no end.
It's a crummy picture because I keep bumping the little wheel that changes the camera settings. I should just Krazy Glue it in place.