Not sure if it’s the holidays or my hormones, but I literally teared up the other day as Mark worked on our upstairs bedroom.
As I wrote this blog post, he carried all the insulation and drywall upstairs.
He cut the fluffy pink stuff and filled all the cracks and crannies
Then, Marky Mark rented himself a lift and started hanging…but not before I made him pose.
Drywall is heavy and cumbersome, and this skinny Canadian handles it like it’s nothing.
All he asked me to do in return that day was make him a sandwich. (I went out and bought him one…same thing.)
Ladies, when your man spends his weekend finishing your house and says that your butt looks nice in those yoga pants as you take blog pictures…you betta cry ’cause the good Lord sent you a KEEPER!
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