Saturday morning. 8:00 AM. Forty fucking degrees. My wife woke me up to help with the Belmont County Dogpark Dog Festival. Because apparently, sleeping in on a Saturday is an unreasonable expectation when there are tents to set up and shit to haul around. We helped get the festival ready, then set up and ran our own craft booth. All of this happened while the temperature was better suited for a refrigerator than an outdoor event.

Cold as hell, windy, and absolutely not my idea of a good time. But we showed up, got the work done, and made the best of it. That’s marriage, I guess. Sometimes you support your wife by freezing your ass off at eight in the morning instead of enjoying the simple luxury of being left the fuck alone in your own house.