There is dog hair everywhere.
Even in my foot.
You read that correctly.
I have gotten dog hair splinters several times.
Yes, I feel absolutely ridiculous saying that I get dog hair stuck in the heel of my foot.
This weekend I got one so bad that it was starting to bruise my foot.
It looked like Tom was doing surgery on my foot to get it out. He had a head lamp, tweezers, nail clippers, and a needle to dig that sucker out of my foot. That single piece of hair was half an inch. That little bugger.
Doing rudimentary surgery on your significant others foot is love.
Trusting your significant other with above items to dig out a dog hair is love. (Although he did live in a place without doctors for 6 months)
This is love.
I love them so much.
Even if it means I have a dirty house with the never ending layer of dog hair no matter how much we sweep and wipe things down.
Even if it means that we now have two full size comforters on the bed because only one means that Tom and I are never comfortable sleeping.
Even if it means on a regular basis I have a dog hair splinters.
Those rare moments seen here make me love them despite all that.
I am taking in these moments of love.