olive juice, okay?: papa ... post session

Greetings from San Antonio!

Mr. Howell and I are here for an early anniversary celebration with a little State Bar meeting on the side. (Or maybe the other way around... details, details.)

As I lounge here in the blissfully silent hotel room, trying my best to talk my husband into drinks at the pool instead of work and Westlaw, it occurs to me that all of you out in the blogosphere are dying for the update on Mr. Howell (as promised).

Well ... he's still Mr. Howell.

Other than another birthday (the big 3-7), there isn't much new to report. He survived session without murdering our two boys and with much of his sanity in tact. He still makes dad jokes, tells l-o-n-g stories, and sings to us in that beautiful high falsetto voice. He still loves his work and insists on believing I care as much about the legal field as he does. It's adorable.

But that's my guy I guess ... tall, handsome, slightly goofy, and always dependable. You should really get one of these for yourself. I highly recommend them.

Special shout out to Gigi for keeping the boys for us. Try not to destroy the Thinkery this weekend. We'll bring you back something really nice.

olive juice, okay?

emily

p.s. In honor of Mr. Howell

p.p.s. And just for funsies ... This is what Mr. Howell is currently talking to me about. It's really time to start drinking...