I mentioned this before, but on our recent trip to the Grand Canyon, my husband was hit by a car in Albuquerque. He was (and is) fine, but I had an epic meltdown the likes of no ones business. Maybe it was being in a strange place. Maybe it was the fact that a FUCKING CAR HIT MY HUSBAND. Either way, I came undone.
As is cliché, the entire thing happened really fast, and I hardly got a chance to think. I don't think my husband did either, but his instincts took over. The instincts are most certainly what make me love him more than anything.
In the split second that it took for some idiot to not look before making a left turn INTO MY HUSBAND, hubs (who was already holding my hand) shoved me with all of his might out of the way before jumping back himself. Without a doubt, he would have gotten hit by a car when it should have hit me.
I guess that makes him worth it.
Beeteedubs, I love him a lot.
As always, it's hip to be square (and safe), kids.