Yeah, You Got That Something

If you read my blog regularly, you already know how much I love my husband.  I've spent many a day at the computer, typing away about how wonderful he is, how much he balances me, how grateful I am to have him in my life.  Those things couldn't be truer, but I don't want to bore you all with the same sentiments over and over.  The Lord knows I repeat myself enough.  Still, this month just wouldn't be an accurate reflection of gratitude if I didn't give Greg at least a little shout out.  (If you want to read about how much I love him, click here for a story about our first kiss, or you can scroll through the archives and find about 75 other posts about Greg!)  To change it up just a little, I thought that I would write about the body part I think is Greg's sexiest.  Any guesses as to what I think it is?  He's a handsome man, it'll be hard to pin it down to one.

Still guessing?

Like I said, he's a handsome man.  He has a flat, defined stomach, strong arms, long, lean legs, and beautifully straight, white teeth.  Of course, you all know that I love him for much more than a sexy physique.  Every day I love him more, and I'll love him more when he's old and flabby than I do today...as long as he doesn't lose his teeth!  That just might be a deal breaker!  Just kidding! Seriously, though, while all of the above attributes make him a very desirable man, the sexiest parts of him by far are his hands.

Greg's hands are the perfect analogy for Greg as a whole.  They are big, strong and manly.  They can fix all kind of things around the house.  They can withstand extreme temperatures.  They're always a little dry and rough around the edges, but they are as tender as they are brawny.  They can tie the most intricate knots on barely visible fishing line.  They can untangle the most complex knots the in my delicate necklace chains.  He would use his hands to protect us if he had to, but never to harm us.  His hands are Greg embodied in one physical feature - rugged and durable, yet warm and gentle.  He may appear macho, but the truth is that he cried at Fried Green Tomatoes.  Enough said.

When I look at his hands, I vividly remember his giant palms and thick fingers gently gliding over Andrew's newborn head with ease and affection.  It's one of the best memories I have, my husband enamored with our son, his strong and rugged hands the perfect juxtaposition to the baby's fresh innocence.  He uses his hands to provide for us, to guide us, and to dote on us.  When he rubs my back or takes my hand, I feel nothing but love from him and for him, and for that, I am grateful.

Now, after reading this little blurb, I challenge you not to check out his hands next time you see him!  ;)

Oh, and did you figure out the title is a excerpt from the Beatles, "I want to hold your hand?"