I'm not sure what it will take for Nate to submit his own post.
Both of our moms have certainly made it clear that they're dying to hear from him. But I know that the more we beg him, the more he will resist.
He even had the nerve to say earlier today that "things were getting a little stale on our blog" due to the fact that I haven't posted an entry in a few days. Can you believe it?
Maybe I'll just start sharing embarrassing things about HIM instead of just me. If he feels the need to clarify or add "his version" to any of these, so be it. In the meantime, you'll have to guess which things are true and which aren't. Kind of like a little game we played with last year's holiday letter to friends and family.
Like the fact that right now, he's watching a Red Sox game on the couch with his hand down his pants.
And when he leaves for work and comes home each day he picks up our cats and sings them a little song.
And the fact that he fed our friends' kid champagne at the wedding we were at tonight.
And the fact that he instantly gets a nightmare if, during the night, his feet get covered up by the blankets instead of sticking out at the end of the bed. And he wakes up sweating and crying from the nightmare.
And the fact that when I told him I was pregnant, after asking "How does that work?" he stated, "Well that's something I'll have to put on my daily list of things to think about."
And the fact that if his red bouncy ball from childhood that he still plays with (meaning, tosses around while he paces around the house if he's waiting for something, or just for no reason) were to have an unfortunate accident and go missing, he would probably not be able to go on living. I think it would be 1,000% times worse than how distraught he's been since he hasn't been able to find his pipe. Which he's convinced that I misplaced.
And finally, the most popular nickname that came out of the Roast that we did of him last year, with the subtheme of giving him a nickname since he gives everyone else nicknames but was still without one himself, was "Squirt". The meaning of which was to reflect MORE THAN ONE occassion on which he let a little more than gas go in his drawers. And, a personal favorite story of mine, was that when he was a teenager one summer, he and some friends were swimming and floating in the lake, and he had to GO. Like, you know, #2. So his friend Pete said, go for it - it sinks. Well to the mixed company's horror, it didn't sink. It floated. Well, learn something new every day, Squirt.
