Fathers.

My fire fighter husband is the best. Let me count the ways: He laughs.  He jokes.  He loves.  He snuggles (but not too long, because it’s weird).  He sports tattoos like a rebel.  He saves lives. Literally.  He is logical.  He is real.  He hugs. He can fix anything. Literally.  He invents things when there isn’t a device to get the job done.  He put the handy in manny.  He makes his uniform blush.  He is outdoorsy.  He is indoorsy.  He is whatever doorsy we are being that day.  He is blonde.  He has muscles. Lots.  He cooks.  He takes…

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