A Beautiful Guy

When you have only sons, you may be lucky enough to have one of them approach you and lovingly stroke your cheek with his hand, staring into your eyes as if you’re the most amazing creature he’s ever seen. And then, because he’s heard no other words for what he wants to say, he might breathe, “What a beautiful guy.”

***

Today over at Chicago Moms Blog it’s “Testosterone Day“, the annual “hand the keyboard over to the Dads day”. Matt was kind enough to acquiesce, and you can read his post here.

Many of you don’t know that Matt – a linguistics and philosophy double-major back in college, and a writer and namer (how cool is that?) by trade – is an excellent writer. Not only does he prove that with today’s post, but he also took the opportunity to be kind to me, rather than complain about the evenings I spend blogging rather than watching “Arrested Development” and eating popcorn.

He truly deserves the title “beautiful guy”.

(And I’m not just saying that because he took the boys to the Ice Cream Social at school and let me stay home tonight.)

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