*Well, I was gonna say “hate.” But, hate’s such a strong word.
“Intensely dislike” doesn’t have quite the same ooomph, though.
But, I shall continue.
HERE’S A BIG FAT LIST:
- Watching Brian eat chicken wings is the kind of experience that will put you off chicken, and their wings, forever. You know those scavenger ants that crawl all over a big cow corpse and leave it picked clean in ten minutes? Think that, but more gross.
- The other day I sat down next to him on the couch and said, “Guess what time I started writing today. Go ahead, guess.” And he didn’t respond so I said, “NEVER O’CLCOCK. THAT’S WHEN.” And then he said, “Why?”
- Whenever he goes anywhere, in any car, and it comes to a stop, it takes him like forty minutes to actually exit the car. I don’t know what he does in there, because I usually just leave. Perhaps he’s a top secret spy and whenever the car shuts off he has to reconfig his gps for the spy people. That doesn’t really make any sense. But it’s so annoying.
- He walks really slow. Unless I’m walking beside him. Then I can’t seem to keep up with his long footsteps. So, maybe it’s an optical illusion. Or, that he doesn’t want to walk with me. We’ll say option one.
- I once was having an existential laundry breakdown and flopped down next to him in bed and said, “Do you ever feel like the days are all just the same thing, over and over, and we’re all on this turning planet just milling about and doing the same thing, over and over, and it will just be like that until we die? Because I just folded and put away laundry and now that’s how I feel.” And he said, “Yes.”
These are hateful, awful things. Deplorable.
But, that’s marriage.
Here’s my point (which I know is kinda full of snark today but it’s Wednesday, and that’s my snark day. Thursday is for serenity. Friday is for super-spiritual… I have it all written down in my bullet journal).
My husband is so annoying. Like, sometimes? Just watching him eat makes me want to stab him with a fork. Marriage is like that. It’s like a long overdue pot of rice on the stove that just BOOM bubbles over in seconds and creates a God awful mess. Simply because the rice was rice.
Here’s another metaphor for you. Marriage is like, a petri dish. Here we are, stuck together in all this goo (children), watching each other, and other things (children) and just floating about and sometimes behaving like one-celled organisms.
And it’s so annoying.
But, even with the chicken wings and the melodious sounds of snoring at night that keeps the whole neighborhood in sync- even with that. AND his weird love of Quick Trip hot dogs. AND that if he says, “I’m going to the store for some milk,” I can expect him back sometime before sundown.
EVEN WITH ALL THOSE THINGS:
I will always and forever love him. Forever and forever. Like, forever.
More today than yesterday, in fact.
Because, that’s marriage.
Happy anniversary, my sweet love. Every day’s a new day.