I hope you don’t mind,

He loves that old t-shirt,

The one with the stain from where he spilled tomato sauce,

The night he and his buddies attempted to make their own pizza,

The one with the hole on the collar,

From too much wear-and-tear,

And a few too many fixed up old cars.

He’ll never part with it,

Don’t fight it.

And he’ll never admit it,

But he hates it when girls cuss.

And he likes his coffee black,

And his leftover meatloaf cold,

And behind his left ear kissed.

I’m not sure how much of this you already know,

But I hope you learn.

The same way I did.

I hope you learn,

Even more than I did.

He likes it when you hold his hand in front of your friends,

And when he’s upset.

And you’ll always know when he’s upset,

Because he pulls out cheesy mystery novels when he needs to get his mind off of something.

And his parents won’t like you,

But don’t worry ,

That won’t last.

When they see you’re willing to stick it out,

They’ll see that it’s real,

And that you aren’t going anywhere.

And just like that, you’ll be good enough for their little boy.

Don’t worry if he picks a fight,

It’s just his way of telling you that he loves you,

But never ask his opinion about a pair of jeans,

Because truth be told,

He’ll say whatever he has to,

To get out of the clothing department.

I hope you don’t mind,

I just wanted to put this all to good use.

Since he found you,

I find myself not needing to know any of it.