It was early in the morning when I was still half asleep with bleary eye and the wife was already up and getting dressed—that it happened—I snuck a peek. I admit it. She was getting dressed and I rolled over and I snuck a peek. I’m not ashamed. You know why? Because my wife is a goddess. She doesn’t realize it. But she is. Because you all are goddesses and I don’t think you realize it. But you are.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even at 6 a.m. in the morning rushing out the door to work trying to find the perfect heel to match the third outfit you just swapped from the closet. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even when you’re annoyed at us for leaving clothes all over the floor or the seat up in the bathroom and you get that squint of disapproval. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even when you’re slinging pancakes and cutting crusts and making brown bag lunches like a line cook at Denny’s. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even when you balance a glass of wine late at night with the laptop open in front of you with your teacher glasses on sending out one final work email for the day. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even with the stretch marks you obsess over—that WE don’t—hidden behind the spanx and the bodysuits. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even with the stray hairs of gray peeking out of your roots that the hair stylist covers in highlights at the salon. You’re beautiful.

You don’t know it but you’re beautiful even when you’re tucking the kids into bed for the night with a kiss and a hug and they shower you with love and a glimmer in their eyes that YOU are their mom, forever. You’re beautiful.

I admit it. I peeked. I caught a glimpse of my wife in the early morning light. You know why? Because she’s a freakin’ goddess. Because you are ALL goddesses. And we sit there sometimes and have to pinch ourselves to believe it—she picked ME. How did it happen. ME. The goddess picked me. She grabs her stuff and heads out the door for the day and we give each other a kiss and I can’t believe it. I’m the luckiest guy in the world. We’re the luckiest guys in the world.

You ladies are goddesses.

Don’t forget it.

***

About the Author

Pete Wilgoren

Pete Wilgoren is Managing Editor at one of the largest local news stations in the country. He is also a husband and father, outnumbered at home by a wife, two little girls and a dog named Cupcake. You can find him on and at talking about his frequently embarrassing, sometimes insightful, and often uncomfortable, admissions living with a wife and two girls.

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