A man who can fix car things like power windows and coolant...stuff. A man who watches So You Think You Can Dance. A man who lifts heavy things for me, but only if I have a good reason now after figuring out that I wanted the living room rearranged just to see his muscles.
A ski instructor. A man who has explained the concept of electricity to me about seven times. An Alaskan. An athlete. A man who always beats me at crosswords, because somehow he knows things like the Latin word for pants.
A man who speaks funny-sounding Spanish. A man who wears velcro Dr. Scholl's shoes with J.Crew pants. A culinary artist.
Early in our courtship:
Julia: It smells good in here! What are you making?
Sloan: Cheese beaner bacon.
Julia: Cheese, bean, or bacon?
Sloan: No, not "or." It's all of them. Cheese beaner bacon.
Julia: Is that supposed to sound racist?
Julia: Guess not. What's in it?
Sloan: Well, ya take a piece of bread. You pour a can of pork and beans on it.
Julia: Oh dear.
Sloan: And then you cover it with shredded cheddar. Fry up some bacon, put it on top. Then throw it all in the oven for a little while, until the cheese is nice and melted.
Julia: I don't...
Sloan: I came up with it myself. It's my go-to meal.
Julia: Of course it is. You eat this meal frequently and can still fit into MY pants. Makes total sense.
Julia: You making cheese beaner bacon, baby?
Sloan: Yeah, sort of. We don't have bacon, so I'm using a hot dog.
Julia: HEY YOU SHOULD CALL THAT CHEESE BEANER WIENER!!!!!
Sloan: *unimpressed* No, Julia. It's cheese beaner bacon with a hot dog substitute. That's what it's called.
Julia: Oh...okay. Yeah. *stares at ground* Hey! I want to take a picture of this for the blog. I have friends who don't believe me that you actually eat this.
Sloan: What? No, don't take a picture. No one cares. Stop it--I'm not...put down the camera. I'm not--fine, I'll set it down and you can take a picture. I don't wanna be in it.
|Did I mention he also watches Top Chef? |
That must have some sort of meaning.
Here it is.