Why my husband rocks: he makes up lyrics to songs on the radio while we're in the car about me, and sings them very loudly and off-key. And it's completely adorable.
Why my husband sucks: he always drops his dirty clothes right next to the hamper. Every time. IT'S RIGHT THERE. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME.
Now you go.

If I wanted to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, I'd put shoes on the cat.
