Buddy Crocker

I could get used to this:Buddy braved the crockpot today, treating me to a pot roast complete with gravy. I fell in love all over again. Why is he suddenly blooming domestically, you ask? One, I have been declaring "Get Your Own" Nights 7 days a week for the past several weeks and apparently he felt the need to take matters into his own hands if he wanted more than cereal for dinner. A little lesson in initiative never hurt anyone...although I wonder how many less-than-industrious husbands have come close to starvation learning said lesson.

Two, he's been interning at a Physical Therapy clinic in Pahrump (I can't even type the name without giggling) for the last two weeks and has a little extra time on his hands without homework to do. Here he is on his first day in his favourite business casual attire, complete with lunch bag. It was a proud day.

Something else we've been filling our time together with is a good ol' game of Scrabble. That's right, we're old souls. We play almost daily, and Buddy is getting wordier and wordier every time. We don't keep score, I feel that would be dangerous, but here are some words we've been extra proud of:

• jovial
• quota
  
• tobacco
• toxic
• turd
• urinal
• united
• yeti

Those Q's and U's can prove rather tricky, but you'd best believe we're getting better and the words just flow. Buddy almost always gets a poor hand, but manages to pull through. Webster would be proud.And he scores extra points for moves like this: