TAD ON TADD

Five sisters. No brothers. But blessed with the best of brother-in-laws that the Good Lord has to offer.

One in particular stands out in my mind today. Or everyday, rather. As a matter of fact, I can't stop thinking of him. I wake in the morning, and to the treadmill I go; each footfall echoes his name: TaddTaddTaddTaddTadd. I microwave popcorn; the Ready! beep has the ring of "Tadd" to it. I listen to music and fill in the words I can't remember with "Tadd." I go to yoga and giggle that mountain pose is called Tad[d]asana. He's everywhere.

Caitlyn's husband is the punctuation of my days.

Please understand that this constant fascination has nothing creepy or romantic to it; Tadd's just the kind of guy that you can't get off your mind. For instance, Whitney and I email quite a bit and the other day we got caught up writing about Tadd and his innumerable qualities (an easy thing to do), and it reminded me that though I think about Tadd every day (all day) I often forget some of the more notable contributions he's made to our family . . .

Here's a snippet from one of Whit's email replies:

Tadd. Where do I even begin? Maybe I could begin with the story of him curing Jack's cancer. It was amazing. My little son had cancer and Tadd cured him. I will never forget that.

Maybe I could also talk about when he carried Ethan up Y Mountain. See Ethan wouldn't be able to hike the whole way because he has been cursed with a pair of bum feet. But Tadd wanted Ethan to see the sunset from Y Mountain. So he hoisted Ethan on his back and like an llama, he hauled Ethan up the mountain. Ethan loved the sunset.

Then there was the time he delivered Van. Yeah, I went into labor while we were all out to dinner at Mi Ranchito. I was freaking out because there was no doctor there to deliver my second born. But Tadd really stepped up to the plate. He ever cut the cord with his teeth. Such a boy scout. He now gets free food at Mi Ranchito for the rest of his life. They even have a special called "Taddow Especial." Beans, rice, fettuccine alfredo and Gatorade.

Tadd. What would we do without Tadd?

I wish I could say that the above is a sufficient snapshot of my brother-in-law Tadd, but words in general aren't good enough. Inadequate, really. He's just so much more than a cancer-curing, Ethan-toting, sunset-loving, Van-delivering hero.

Bottom line: Tadd makes Gandhi and Mother Teresa look like Punch and Judy.

He's that good.

•••

You are very confused now. I know you are. You think I'm creepy and weird. (Or rather creepier and weirder than you already did.) And Caitlyn's pretty concerned that I'm obsessed with her spouse.

In saving you from yourself and your quick and paranoid mind, I offer you the explanation (which, naturally, you don't truly need, because you read this blog regularly and know what a sarcastic, over-the-top little beast I have the propensity to be):

So what do you think, Tadd? Did this post satiate your need to be featured and lauded?

Anyone else out there feeling sad and neglected?