Bragging on Beautiful Bald Husband (Or, RIP Ol' Blue)

I have already mentioned (once or twice) that I have "challenged" hands.  On my more entertaining days, I call them my "Pork Chop Hands" or "Crazy Fingers." It is like having two hunks of lifeless meat attached to my wrist... Like wearing stiff mittens all day.  So, needless to say, I drop things.  A LOT.  Some days, I take this in stride. I have stopped crying over every broken plate, or busted glass.  I have switched to cheap Ikea dishware so it isn't as heartbreaking.  (Uncle Bobby's China is safely locked away in the china cabinet.) BUT, yesterday, because of my damn Pork Chop Hands, we lost a great member of the family.  We had a man down that would impact us on nearly a daily basis...

Yesterday, I dropped the Slow Cooker.... GAAAASP!!!!!

As I looked down at Ol' Blue, that once was the tool to so many perfectly delectable and headache free moments of culinary happiness, I couldn't help myself... the tears began to pool... and I mourned the loss of my dear friend.  I fell to my knees, stretched my palms to the sky, and cried out, "Whyyyy??? Whyyyy God, whyyyyy??" I cried for the loss of our family member, and cursed the hands that failed her.

Then I stood up, brushed the bits of stoneware off my pants, grabbed my phone and took a picture of the travesty to send confess my unintentional homicide to my husband.

My darling BBH has so gently, and dutifully swept up so many of my finger fumbles.  He always makes a joke to help me feel better, and gets rid of the mess before I can feel to badly about it.  It is something he does without a second thought, it is an immediate reaction. He hears the crash and shatter, rushes to the kitchen with a broom, shoos me away with a joke and a smile, and the shards of broken dish and of broken ego are gone within moments. He has never once, even for a moment, made me feel bad or made fun of me, or laughed AT me.  He has always been so tender, and sweet. So considerate.  BUT THIS TIME....

This time, BBH was at work. So, naturally, after I sent the photo, I went to the garage to grab my broom.  I didn't get an instant reply from the picture, which surprised me. BBH was almost as much in love with Ol' Blue as I was. I assumed I would get at least a text to commiserate our loss together.  But nothing.  I tried to assume he was busy at work.  But, part of me wondered if the loss might have been just to great for him. (I kid of course... kind of.)

However, in less than 20 minutes of my text to him, this was his reply:

I mean, come on.... How much better does it get than that?? 
I know that you can't just replace the loss of someone you love. I know it might take a minute to adjust to the changes and grieve the loss, but... aw, who am I kidding?? Move over Ol' Blue... there is a new sheriff in town.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like for you all to meet Black Beauty.

Isn't she LOVELY? Isn't she WON-DER-FUL??  Nearly as beautiful as BBH. Nearly.