My husband grew up as one of six boys. There wasn't a whole lot of girliness in that house. He had (has) a beautiful mother, but she was definitely outnumbered by the amount of testosterone in that house. So I am always slightly surprised when I need my husband to talk in the way I would if I had a best girlfriend, when I need someone to cry with and to just listen. Not necessarily to fix the solution (husbands usually try to do this first). I got disappointed yesterday. Someone I love, someone I am close to, just simply hurt my feelings. Chose work over me and my family. It stung. I didn't have the words to tell my husband this. I didn't know exactly how to process my disappointment, only that it made me feel like a sad, lonely little kid all over again. He found me in our bedroom, in tears. He put his arms around me and asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I said he already knew, it had happened before, but that I didn't really have the words to talk anymore. So he held me. He made an impromptu family night, complete with jumping on the bed and lots of giggles from our two-year old. It was what I needed. I needed the reminder that these guys are my family now, and that I can count on them. And that God truly has blessed me with two people that I love more than anything. His momma must have raised him well. 
Happy Saturday, friends.