You can't look at my husband when he's with the kids without seeing the love he has for him. The crap he puts up with, oh God, it's a mountain-full. He is constantly beseeched with requests from all quarters, and he pretty much satisfies the barrage.
He's not the screamer that I am, although he's been known to blow his stack. He's not the disciplinarian that I am, but I still hold out the threat of him to the kids 'tho it doesn't have the impact on them that my mother's threats to tell my dad had on me and my siblings. [His exact words to the kids when they're not listening to him are "Do I have to sic your mother on you?"]
My 'ku yesterday talked about my willingness to embarrass the heck out of the kids. You can't embarrass Youngest, though, as he's both too young to care and too much of a ham himself.
Walking the streets of our small town the other day with Aunt Ginny! and Uncle Tom!, Youngest was wearing his doo-rag while Pete was wearing a hat. Youngest got too hot in the darn doo-rag, so he traded with Pete. And then Daughter slapped a larger-than-life sock monkey on Pete. Put it all together and look at the package created. Yeah, that's my husband all right. I had to find someone who could hold his own, right?