— Jenny, approximately 1,000 times a day.
Herman: “Obviously.”
“But today isn’t actually about me…”
A highly structured city girl with excellent hair, a suspiciously strong opinion on almost everything, and one extremely spoiled dog.
Jenny notices the tiny things everyone else misses. She is punctual, organized, meticulous… and somehow all of those powers disappear the second a charging cable gets involved.
While other kids were dressing up as Barbie… Jenny chose Mother Teresa. Because apparently doing her own thing started very early.
etroit has her heart. ❤️Some people have a favorite city. Jenny has Detroit. Honestly, she may be the city’s unofficial tourism department.
Adopted by Jenny at about 6–8 weeks old, Herman went from farm puppy to full-blown downtown Cincinnati dog. He loves people, wants all the pets, and seems to believe play mode should never be turned off.
Not his actual voice, obviously. Jenny took care of that. When we come home, Herman hears the footsteps, runs to the door, and little legs appear under it…
When Herman first moved to the city, apparently everything on the ground needed to go into his mouth. Pick it up. Jenny notices. Spit it out. Walk five feet. Repeat. Jenny’s version: “Herman! DROP IT.” Herman’s version: “Excellent. Mom is paying attention to me again.”
He eventually retired from that hobby. He did not retire from being hand-fed by Jenny after work.
Jenny loves her workouts. Herman loves Jenny.
Apparently, even gym time is still Herman time.
For a homebody, Jenny has a pretty full world around her. Once she likes you, good luck getting rid of her.
Jenny plans. Details matter. Routes matter. Timing matters. And every once in a while, all that planning produces something unexpectedly perfect.
Jenny may have Plan A, Plan B and Plan C. Every once in a while, reality invents Plan D.
Jenny tried to push me into the pool. There was just one small problem with the plan: I pushed back. The face in the photo says the rest.
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Part I: Empty theater. Just the two of us. Scary movie. Jenny was so creeped out that apparently I was not permitted to use the restroom without an escort. Every. Single. Time.
Part II: We somehow tried another scary movie. An alarm went off, everyone evacuated through strange back hallways, and the theater turned the evening into a live-action maze.
Two theaters. Two incidents. Zero lessons learned.
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After 10–12+ hours driving back from Minneapolis, Jenny found a fantastic motel deal. One minor issue: she was too scared of the motel she booked to sleep. I checked under beds and in closets. Plan A was technically successful.
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Oh, we’re not done yet.
Loose ball. Jenny assumes I’m about to sprint for it. I am, in fact, standing completely still. Jenny takes off anyway, slips, mildly offends her pinky, and leaves me wondering what exactly just happened.
Every once in a while, underneath all that planning, Jenny pulls out an absolutely wild move nobody saw coming.
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*Technology excluded. Smudge on a countertop? Detected. Wrong cable for her own phone? A mystery for future generations.
Tap again to closeWe met on Hinge a little over two and a half years ago. Jenny plans everything. I’m more “we’ll figure it out.” What I lack, she brings into my life. What she lacks, I bring into hers. Somewhere between those two approaches, we found a rhythm.
