Role Model

The Man isn't officially a police officer yet, but I'm already experiencing the burden of a police officer's wife. Not that it's necessarily all bad; it's nice to know I'm needed. And really, if it weren't for me he would be running around northern Kentucky eating tortilla chips with no pants on. In the past few days I've taken on the roles of:

• Party Planner -- organized and hosted a going away party for 30+ people, including a customized cake, food, and drinks
• Packer -- packed all of the Man's belongings into 8 neatly stacked boxes, all labeled with the contents and appropriate timeline of necessity
• Hair Stylist -- buzzed the Man's head as to meet academy requirements. As if bald wasn't short enough.
• Professional Organizer -- unpacked all of the Man's belongings into his temporary closet; this consisted of refolding everything he "folded."
• Navigator -- the Man has driven to Louisville more times in the last month than most people have in their entire lives, yet he almost got lost three times. I'm pretty sure I have an internal GPS.
• Cook -- I'm no Julia Child, but I can pack a mean cooler full of snacks.
• Counselor -- "Everything is going to be ok, honey. I love you, honey. God is in control, honey. No, your head doesn't look like a skunk, honey."

I could go on, but the Man informed me that my typing is keeping him awake and he absolutely has to get some sleep. Did I mention I'm waking up at 4:30am to wish him off? Wife.Of.The.Year.