My bride is a superhero.

While busting her butt until late nights as sole editor for the provenz’ extravaganza, she also rises when duncan feels like getting up… usually 6am… and deals with him until either grandma or help shows up to hang with him. Unlike me, she is able to juggle work & family with a semblance of a social life and extra-curricular activities with friends.

Mainly, she is an amazing mother to our son. So concerned with his well-being and happiness that she takes responsibility for things that she probably shouldn’t be taking responsibility for. Patient and loving to him at times that anyone else would launch the boy into the ocean and be done with him.

She’s able to cut the The Green Room at home, so she can do important things with Duncan like spend actual “quality time” with him at the end of the day, feed him, give him his bath and put him to bed… and then go back to work. She takes care of me… listens to me whine about my stupid job and wasted life and has been dealing with ALL of the bullshit paperwork on our house.

Plus, she is funny and smart and is a Hottie McHottenberger, rockin’ the hotness each and every day. Even when she doesn’t think she is rockin’ the hotness.

We’ve been together just about 11 years and each and every day has been a delight. Except for that one. But that was my fault. Pretty much.

Happy Birthday, Jessie the chimp Marion. You rule. You are a superhero.