Poptarts, Crocs, & Sweaty Holey Tshirts

...No this isn't my Christmas list! ha ha ha
It's the little things. The little things that make me miss him.

Poptarts: Kevin stood in the pantry as I made the grocery list. "Is there anything you want Honey?" I asked. He asked for some poptarts. He loves poptarts. I proceeded to ask him what kind he preferred this time. His simple, yet jovial, reply followed as he stood back rubbing his tummy in his usual manner. "You know, why don't you get me some of the kind without the frosting, I probably need to save a few calories." How could you help but laugh? A man who eats poptarts every day of his life is concerned about the frosting having too many calories. You just have to love him.

I had a really hard time while passing the poptarts in the cereal aisle on Thursday. Normally I would have placed two or three boxes in the cart.

Crocs: All of our friends say they are gay. He said they were stupid looking once upon a time too. Then he wore mine. As a matter of fact, wore them so many times he made the backs of them squish down because his feet were too long. So, I decided he needed his own. Visiting Target one day I saw the "generic" ones and told him that they were a bargain at a mere ten dollars. He wouldn't have any of that, if he was gonig to wear them they were going to be the real ones, they were way more comfortable. That weekend at the mall we bought him some black ones. He has worn them ever since. Our friends say he is secure in his manhood because he looks like a fruitcake. He still loves them.

Today I put Wrena's car seat in the garage. In a box, packed for me to send to Iraq are his black crocs.

Sweaty Holey Tshirts: One of the worst things that I think a spouse with a deployed soldier has to do is that first load of laundry that you do that still contains their clothes. They smell like them, they remind you of them, and you still have to put them away yourself. Our husbands, no matter soldier or not all have some "skeleton" pair of jeans or nasty old ripped pair of boxers don't they? I think I put away more than my fair share.

Wednesday I put away five white socks (where is the sixth?), one green Harley Davidson tshirt (his favorite!), a pair of ratty old navy blue swim trunks he wears as shorts (I should have put them in the trash!), a pair of boxer briefs, a pair of jeans, and three ratty, nasty, old, sweaty, holey Old Navy flag tees from 1998. He loves those tshirts.

I miss my best friend. I miss him more than he'll ever know.