What's not to love?

Yesterday's last picture showed off something I noticed the first time I met the cute guy who would end up being my husband: his eyelashes.

He has got the most beautiful eyelashes in the world. Like, I fight to not be jealous of those killer lashes and just admire them instead. Long, black, curved, corner to corner. Almost incongruent on a big shouldered hulking guy like him. He slays me.

So that was one of the first things I saw the day I met him. I've always been an eye person. I used to spend a lot of sketch book pages drawing people's eyes. The best thing about young Jethro was that his lovely eyelashes framed a set of gorgeous greens.

He had shaggy long black hair and he was kinda chubby. Seems after the demise of his rock star career a couple of months before he'd hit the kitchen pretty hard. He had just turned 18 and very recently taken up jogging as a spare time hobby. He was just slightly cool in an offputting kind of way...just the tiniest hint of arrogance that I found inexplicably irresistible.

But he was cool. Casual. Unaffected. He leaned against the wall of lockers with one giant Converse sneakered foot resting on the other. We chatted. I wasn't instantly in love but I had a hard time deciding if I should stare at his eyes or his top lip. I already had a boyfriend. I wasn't looking for anything. But I liked him.

A few months later, he showed up at school all friggin hung over. He wouldn't take his shades off and I laughed at him. We were all hanging around in the corridor outside my classroom. Somehow I managed to break him down and slowly pull his mirrored aviator shades off his face. He was a little bloodshot and absolutely goofy faced.

But still way too pretty.

"Are you wearing eyeliner???" I asked stupidly. He stared at me blankly for a second and then laughed at me. He was done with the eyeliner phase of his life. The glam rock thing lasted about two months for him before he got really really sick of it. Those long black eyelashes were totally natural and god-given. I was very close to his face. I liked what I was looking at.

But I can't show you how pretty he is because it's almost unbearable.



No I'm serious. I cannot unleash his appeal on my readers, you are not prepared. You can never be prepared.





Oh heck. I hope you're sitting down.














I know. I know.



stunning.



Here's the amazing part: when I was 16, I had no way of knowing that this 18 year old guy would some day be a 38 year old guy with streaks of silver in his long dark hair... and that I'd find the silver streaks as irresistible as his green eyes.