Rewind 2 years to a different well written post:
I saw a picture of myself and realized we have something very important to discuss. Please sit down. Perhaps you should take notes.
Jamie is a fantastic husband.
* If I were to rank Jamie as a husband on a scale from 1 to 10 (1 being low and 10 being high), I would give him a solid 11.
* If I were to look up best husband in a dictionary, I would see his face.
* If I were to go on Jeopardy and Alex asked, “Best Husband.” I would ring in and say, “Who is Jamie Carson.”
He is wonderful. In fact, he only moved to the farm to make me happy. He knew I always wanted to live on a lot of property. Pretty dreamy - I know.
With all that being said, I have articulated to my parents on several occasions,
“If I go on a cruise with Jamie and I don’t come back, I want Jamie to be the only suspect.”
It is true, and I am not ashamed to say it. It is always the husband. We have gone on three cruises together. While I am on the boat and around Jamie, I always move with my ninja skills and cat-like reflexes. Also, I never go near the rail when I am alone with him.
If I go on a cruise with Jamie and I don’t come back, I want Jamie to be the only suspect AND I want you to rush to my closet and save my flannel.
Jamie has always hated my flannel. Since we moved to the farm, the emotion has grown from hate to revulsion. He doesn’t even bother to hide his disgust. I know with all my heart my helpless flannel will be his next victim. You must pinky promise me you will save it. Check my closet and check the burn piles. Just promise you will Save the Flannel.