Woe is Tanner

Before I met my now-husband, I had only known one other "Tanner." He was the little brother of my high-school (and current) best friend, Summer. (On second thought, don't click that link. She's way more stylish and cooler than me. And she actually takes the time to work on her house.) Anywhoo, all of us high school kids thought it was quite high-larious to make all kind of clever connections between the names "Summer" and "Tanner." As in, "When it's SUMMER time, do you get TANNER??????" hahahahahahahahHA

Since meeting and marrying my Tanner, I haven't met any others. There were two Tanners on the last season of The Bachelorette, (the one with the giggly Canadian, Gillian) but one of the Tanners was boring and forgettable, and the other had a creepy fet footish. I mean foot fetish, of course, but when I accidentally typed "fet footish," I laughed so hard I had to leave it up there. Anyway, MY Tanner is neither boring, forgettable, nor foot-obsessed. So, there.

Having a unique name that sounds part rugged leather-worker, part California surfer dude is indeed a blessing. You're one of a kind. The down side? You live a sad childhood void of touristy knick knacks with your name printed on them. Can you imagine your life without magnets, key chains, coffee mugs, shot glasses, and mini-license plates bearing your name? Sad, isn't it? Knowing how Tanner longed for these trinkets, I always kept a keen eye out for that hidden gem. I knew it had to be out there. Somewhere there was a rack of personalized items that had not left my Tanner out in the cold.

I was right.

After 4 years of looking, I found him.

You didn't even know they still made Beanie Babies, did you? Well, they do. And I would like to salute the TY corporation (or whoever made this knock off) for kindly remembering my man, with such a manly, multicolored, fuzzy wuzzy tribute.