the pacer

The Sugar Daddy is a big guy. He's tall. He just skims six foot six inches. Oh I do love me a tall man.

He runs to keep his weight in check. He's got a fierce, snarly sugar tooth that forces him to keep active. I love to bake for him because he enjoys sweets so much. The kids and I call him "The Gobbler".

He's the kind of guy you can really snuggle into and feel like a kid again. It's safe in his embrace. He's a big ol' bear of a guy.

And he works hard. Everyday. He's up and out and moving and shaking and pimping and working it.  He's motivated. Is ambitious too strong a word? I think not.

Here's the thing about living with a motivated person: it motivates you.

I mean, how is one to sit around eating cheese on the sofa while someone else runs around working like mad? And oh I do love me a good sharp piece of cheddar.

Yes, the Sugar Daddy really puts a cramp in my lazy mooching style.

The truth of the matter is that all that I have ever accomplished in this life that I am truly proud of, has happened because I am striving to keep pace with my husband.

We don't actually run together. Running next to the Sugar Daddy feels like running next to Paul Bunyan.

That, and he spits a lot.

But we are in this proverbial marathon of life together and I'm really thankful I have a good pacer.

Did you know bears can run as fast as horse or deer? Tis true.